Forever Westward
by bisexualcharliedavis
Summary: (Waterworld 1995 AU) 500 years after the melting of the ice caps, humanity is a struggling cause, on the verge of destruction. Not that Charlie Davis would know. Or care. He's perfectly content to fish for a living, with his best mate Danny, and care for his father, the miserable but brilliant Lucien. Until Mattie, one day, asks him to build her a boat. (multichapter)
1. Check 1, 2

_A/N: I'm sure some of you have seen Waterworld. You know. The1994 Epic Keven Costner flop? Well me, being who I am, decided that I must write a fic about it after I saw the stunt show at Universal Japan. Anyway. Im going to be posting this in chapters over the next few days : ) I imagine this fic will have 6 or seven chapters when fully edited. Here's some warnings you can expect; I'm not going to be putting them at the top of every chapter. (All warnings applicable to Waterworld: Rape, slavery, death, violence, blood, character death, child abuse, abuse, alcoholisim most of these are mention only; but not all ) while the fic is generally pretty tame, it does contain upsetting themes. Anyway. Enjoy, please leave a review if you liked it; or if there's a plot inconsistency or if you just want to say hi. Special thanks and all my love to Crinklybrownleaves and Missouiser for all the encouragement_

...

"Matthew?"  
"Yes Rose?"  
"What's dryland?" Though she was small, Rose was already a determined child with a mind that craved filling. Really, it was shame she'd ended up with him. Someone who knew very little about life outside of drifting. Matthew Lawson had been born somewhere North, on one of the smaller floating cities that littered the world. He'd had a mother. And a father. But neither of them had liked him much. As soon as he was old enough, he'd enlisted a crew, and set off on the oceans. He'd split apart from his crew in months, happier to go it alone.  
"Well. You see how everything is covered in water?"  
"Yeah."  
"Dryland is solid. Like…A city, but covered in dirt." Thankfully, this pleased the child for now, as she went back to amusing herself. She'd been taught by someone, though Matthew doesn't know who, to sew, and that was how she amused herself while he went about maintaining the boat. Though she was small, she could sew anything back into one piece. A skill Matthew himself had never mastered and was glad to hand over to her as the master of it. Maintaining the boat was hard work. Tending to the metal, replacing things and keeping the sails tidy. A drifter's boat was their home, and he was no different. Having a clean and livable place to be was its own reward. Overhead, the sun was beating down, and he was glad Rose at least had the know how to sit in the shade cast by the sail. She burned easily. She was a pretty child, with soft red hair and big eyes. Matthew had been pretty once, or so he'd been told. Pretty enough he could sell himself to make money to fund his leaving, in fact. He wasn't now though. He was old and burned by the sun, both tanned and faded at the same time.

"Matthew look!" He looked up from the sail he was re-hitching. "Another boat!" He looked up in time to see them approach. A large boat with a dozen or more people on board. Not drifters like them; therefore, he didn't owe them nothing. He's glad he moved the lemon tree into the hold for today. As they drew closer he realized they wanted to meet. He also noticed that they were probably slavers. No one had that many people on their boat and were sane.  
"Rose go below deck." He said, sharply.  
"But I want to meet them!" She said, running over and hooking her arms around his leg. He adored Rose, and her child like innocence. She was sweet and kept him alive sometimes. Kept him willing to keep going, to reach the next city to trade and clean and work.  
"Go below." He insisted, "It's not safe." She looked up at him, then nodded and scampered below deck. If they saw her, a child, then he suspected that it could spell disaster. He's glad he was behind the sail, and it was a dark day. He moved to the bow of the deck. A man stepped out. Tall, white hair. He looked at Matthew with contempt, as people on the ocean often did.

"Hello there!"  
"What do you want?" Matthew demanded, suddenly well aware of the small gun in the back of his pants. He had never bothered to fit his boat out with a harpoon or anything of that nature. He wishes he had. One gun was not going to be enough to take them out.

"Just to show you our wares." He shouted back, "Ask you if you have any to sell."  
"No, I'm not interested."  
"Really? You haven't even looked."  
"I don't have anything worth trading."  
"I'm sure you can find something. Come aboard, have a look." Realizing he had no choice, Matthew took the boat closer, and kept a straight face as they threw a wooden plank onto his hull. He walked over, hoping Rose would keep her head down. "Come, see our wares." The man said, leading Matthew past rows of sunburned men and women all with a brand burned into their left cheek. A circle with a square on the inside. Some were still fresh.

As he walked, his stomach flipped. He didn't agree with slavers, but he knew he would have to pick one of these hollow-eyed men or women to trade for. He couldn't say no now he was here. As he moved through the people, he noticed the sound of scrubbing somewhere on the boat. Perhaps a piece of merchandise they'd kept for themselves? It was impossible to tell. He made his way through the skeletons of people, skin clinging to bone, desperate to keep the misery inside. Eventually, he came to the source of the noise. A tiny boy with thick curls and a black eye scrubbing furiously at what suspiciously like a blood stain. The black eye was a good sign, meant there was still sprit in him.

Briefly, he wondered what happened to him. Himself, that was. After he'd set out from his home to be a drifter, he's set his life to never having to worry about a family or children or the like, he'd been perfectly fine making it on his own. Then of course he found Rose floating among the wreckage of a ship and he couldn't leave a child to die. He'd assumed he'd leave her at the next city he came too, but hadn't been able too. He liked her too much. And he liked to think Rose liked him as well. Now he was thinking about buying this boy, this tiny boy probably only a few years older than Rose, because he seemed like the easiest choice. He turned to look at the man following him.

"I'll take that one."


	2. Everyday

Charlie Davis awoke with a start. It's not unusual. His dreams had always consisted of memories, some he'd like to remember, others he'd try and forget. Defenses went down when he slept, things he didn't like slipped through the cracks, forcing him to recall. He took several moments to enjoy the relative comfort before getting up, his favourite part of every day. He knew from experience that it was still dark outside and he had time, and he wanted to used it. He did like resting; it was the only time that he could just be. No responsibilities, no requirements. No father. No fishing. Just him. Now and forever. Or until he got up at least.

Eventually he decided it was time to get up. He sat, and turned to look at his 'bed', if it could be called that. Really, it was a collection of some of Doctor Blake's old rags in a pile. Most people had what could be considered beds, which was to say their rags had a cover over the top of them and proper sheets. In summer, he slept on top. In winter, he slept in the pile. He rarely took the time to change or wash them. No one else came in here, and they didn't smell offensive to him so why bother. He tugged his shirt over his head. It was thin, but long sleeved and almost white with sun bleaching. Not his best shirt, but it was only a regular day so there was no real need to dress up. He had three shirts and three pants, all of them had been made for him by Jean, who was Danny's aunt.

He noticed his carving on the damp floor and picked it up, having a look at what he fell asleep drawing. Matthew, he thought, examining the page closely. It wasn't made from paper, because that was much too expensive, but rather pale metal that he could draw on; or scratch, to be specific. Using sharpened bits of metal could take the top layer off of the metal and expose it's clean insides. He wasn't sure how accurate his memories were anymore, but he was desperate not to forget the man who probably saved his life. He drew Rose sometimes as well, but he'd never been close to her like he was with Matthew. He sighed softly, and began to put away his sticks. The drawing implements had been a gift from Lucien when he hit what he worked out to be roughly twenty five summers. He was up to thirty two now though. The gift had been unusual, but he had not looked a gift horse in the mouth. He and Lucien had been close once, but these days they felt like two strangers occupying the same space. He does his best not to look at the overflowing stacks of metal each full of pictures and what could only be described as the scribblings of a mad man.

The room he slept in was originally some kind of storage room. It was a part of the floating city of Melbourne, to be more specific, under the floating city of Melbourne. Under in the sense that while it was still attached to the main sectors, it was built under the ocean so it was colder and safer. The walls were, he suspected, built from the same material as boats because it never rusted, though it did occasionally need repairs, and always sounded like there was something somewhere dripping. He wished he knew how they got all these rooms down here, that would be fascinating. His best guess is that they were built up on Melbourne and then sealed and lowered into the water. But Doctor Blake hadn't been around long enough to know, and Mei Lin, who could have told him, was dead.

All things considered he's glad to live under the water then on the top anyway, he's not sure he could cope with such heat all the time. Figuring he'd spent enough time reminiscing, Charlie Davis got to his feet and went to look at himself in the tiny shaving mirror. He didn't need to shave quite yet, but he was in the process of growing himself a set of facial hair on his top lip and again on his chin, abiet in a smaller quantity. He was a little vain so what? He had earned it as far as he could see.

After that, he decided it was time for breakfast before he went to collect Danny. Or get him out of bed, actually as the days usually went. For himself, he cut a portion of dried fish from the large fish hanging in the kitchen and ate two segments of an orange. For Lucien he cut dried fish, and put it on one of their dented tin plates as well as orange and sea weed (also dried) for Doctor Blake. While he sometimes resented his role as caretaker, he kept coming back to the same set of thoughts. He owed the man his life and if he didn't care for him then who would?

Jean, maybe? They had a complex relationship, this much Charlie Davis knew. They had courted briefly when Lucien first showed up on this man made Atoll, but Jean had ended up having her children with Christopher; she had never deigned to tell him why. Charlie Davis never made it his business to ask. Of course, Christopher, much like Mei Lin and Li, was dead too now. Charlie Davis kept hoping Jean would offer to take over from him, and rouse Lucien to how he used to be, when Charlie was young. But he doesn't dwell too much longer on it, there's no sense to it.

He stuck his head into the room that the doctor used to share with Mei Lin and found him asleep, an empty glass bottle near his face. He sighed, and remembered the days when doctor Blake used to wake him up in the mornings. He sat on the bed near him and put a hand in the middle of his back. Those days had been gone for more than ten summers now but he remembered them fondly. He used to come home in the evenings to find Mei Lin and Li here and the three of them would make seafood broth for him when he was done with his patients. He could remember when the Doctor annulled his brand by cutting a slice in it so everyone would know he was a free man. And he missed that doctor.

"Lucien." He said, in a soft voice, rubbing his hand back and fourth. "It's time to wake up now…"  
"Charlie Davis?" Charlie Davis smiled slightly.  
"Yeah 's me. You have patients today so you need to get up. I made breakfast for you."  
"Are you going to work?"  
"Yes."  
"Will you see Jean?"  
"Yes."  
"Tell her that….What did I want to tell her?"  
"I don't know."  
"That makes two of us." Charlie Davis sighed to himself and collected the bottle. He hates it. He hates Alcohol with his whole heart, hates it from stealing Lucien away from him. But he can't bring himself to leave. He probably never will.

…

Danny Parks was the one person on Melbourne who Charlie Davis had any faith in. He used to have faith in Mei Lin who brought him from a market almost dead and nursed him back to health, but she died. He had faith in Li because she was brave and strong and made him feel brave and strong. But she was dead as well. He had faith in Doctor Blake but then he went and got himself addicted to alcohol. He had faith in Matthew but he was certainly gone and likely dead. All of those people had died or let him down. But Danny hadn't. Not once. Not even a little.

He knocked twice on the metal door of Jean's home. Jean was Danny's aunt. Which was to say she was the sister to his father who had died a long time before Charlie Davis showed up here. Or at least that's what he thinks. No one tells anyone much about their family line these days. Probably a result of interbreeding and shame.

Jean smiled when she opened the door. Inexplicably, she liked Charlie Davis a lot. Probably because he kept Danny out of trouble. Which was fair enough, Danny was basically his opposite in every way. Charlie Davis was calm, collected and liked to think of solutions to things in a reasonable manner taking his time to way everything up. Danny was impulsive. Charlie Davis had the self restraint to raise before the sun, care for the doctor and work. Danny could barely be prodded out of bed on a good day. Comparably, Danny was an excellent barterer and could talk a man into giving you his house while Charlie Davis would pay whatever was asked in a hope of getting away quicker. Danny was a social person who had many friends and allies. Charlie Davis was a recluse who had only Danny.

"Good morning, Jean."  
"Good morning, Charlie Davis." She smiled, and put a hand on his arm before letting him into the house.  
"How are you?"  
"Well. You?"  
"Well." He said, as they traced the steps of all their other conversations had in the early morning.

Following her into the house, he politely listened to her tell him about her evening, before breaking away to the bedroom. Similar to the doctor, it was easier to get Danny out of bed by quiet touch and soothing words then shouting and banging. He put a hand on Danny's arm.  
"It's time to get up."  
"Hmmmm"  
"We have to work."  
"Hmmmmmm."  
"Up and at 'em Danny." While Danny resisted, Charlie Davis stood and pretended he wasn't envious of the room. It must be nice to have pillows. He found Danny's shirt, and set it over his arm. "You still have to have breakfast, your aunt is concerned about you skipping it." He said, stopping to admire his face in Danny's mirror.

Though it took him several minutes, Danny was up and at it. Unlike Charlie Davi who favoured long sleeves to prevent burning, Danny wore no sleeves and had very tanned arms. After shoving a handful of fish into his mouth and kissing his aunt goodbye, the two set off for work.

They climbed up the outside wall towards the left of Melbourne, and made their way around to a little abandoned guard tower where they usually did their fishing. It was here that they were able to keep away from everyone else and catch good fish. They sat like they always did, feet hanging off the edge of the tower, Danny on the left and Charlie Davis on the right.

"What was it like out there?"  
"I was only a drifter for a few years Danny I've told you all my good stories."  
"Tell them again?" Danny was obsessed with the idea of being a drifter, it was probably what drew him to Charlie Davis in the first place. He sighed and added a second piece of bait to his rod before flicking the line back out to sea.

"It was….Very open. You could look in any direction and see nothing but the horizion. Matthew used to tell me that there was nothing better than being alone in the open sea." Danny sighed softly and gazed out at the open sea.  
"I'd love to be a drifter." Charlie Davis felt a tiny spike in his heart that he knew intimately. Fear. Danny wasn't going to stay here forever. He would leave some day to make his own way and he was waiting for him to concede and leave with him. He wasn't going to. Not only did the Doctor need him, but he didn't want to go back out on the open sea. He'd hated it as a child. It was too dangerous, too many slavers and other unsavory characters. But as much as he would like he cannot keep Danny here with him forever and eventually he too will leave.

He pulled his rod from the water, and distributed the fish into the bucket.  
"I'm sure a lot of people would."  
"Would you go back out on the open sea?" Charlie Davis will never understand why Danny wants to ask him a question he already knows the answer to. He neglects to answer. Danny knows what that means.

Around the middle of the day, when Danny is complaining about the heat, they are greeted by another person to their little hiding place. Mattie. She's one of Danny's friends who has learned in order to be near Danny you also have to be around Charlie Davis.

She sat in the middle of them, looking mostly upset. Mattie's father, Martian ran Melbourne. He was the one who had the final say in Charlie Davis staying here. He was…Okay. A bit overbearing, a little too willing to recycle the living, but okay. Like Mattie herself. He neither liked nor disliked her. She was a step up from Danny's usual mates and that was all he was willing to divulge on the subject.  
"I need your help." Charlie Davis raised his eyebrows slightly and then looked down to his hook. It was made from metal, he bent and sharpened it himself. He was reaching into his bucket for bait. He doesn't bother looking to her expecting her to continue talking to Danny. "Charlie Davis?" He looked back up. Mattie is looking at him with that fire in her eyes.


	3. Rock the Rock

Like most of the women on Melbourne, Mattie wore a long dress made from what looked to be scraps. Her hair was a sort of red brown and fastened back from her face into a braid. She had the clear face of someone who has never suffered. As far as Charlie Davis knew, she had never sold herself to the others of the town, like so many women did, but rather simply obtained chins from her father. Charlie Davis is so un-used to people talking to him directly that he's a little taken aback but he recovers himself quickly.  
"Pardon?"  
"I said I need your help. "  
"My help?"  
"Yes. Your help."  
"What can I do for you, Mattie?"  
"I want to get the fuck off Melbourne." Charlie Davis closed one eyes and examined her features. If he was interested, he could see why boys chased Mattie. She was a very beautiful lady. She had the most symmetrical face he'd ever seen. A real rarity out in these parts. Charlie Davis sat back, and gestured around himself.  
"Okay. What the fuck does that have to do with me?"  
"You're the only person I know who has ever been somewhere that's not Melbourne."  
"Yeah. When I was fifteen." He said, unable to stop the annoyance seeping into his voice. He was tired of being known as 'the drifter' Lucien had been a drifter for years and years but no one asked him about it. Likely because no one liked him enough to inquire. Fact was Lucien was disliked rather much; when h wasn't drunk or treating illness he was rather a force of liberation. When Charlie had been eighteen, Lucien had gone to Martian directly and told him, quite firmly, that Charlie was not going to impregnate any girls, and to leave him alone. He had also stood up for new comers and travelers. He was, in all fact, a force of nature. Or he had been. He supposed as well, while he, Matthew and Rose had been fairly lucky, Lucien had not been so in his travels. Charlie didn't know much about it, other then that he'd been captured by Smokers for a time. Lucien had never told him; and he'd never asked.

"Charlie Davis, please. My father wants me to get pregnant with this boy and he's so horrible. I can't live like that. Maybe you can but I can't." He felt bad about it, he really did, but there was nothing he could really do about it.  
"I don't know what you think I can do. I don't even have a boat."  
"What if I could get you a boat." Danny looks up, interested now.  
"How?"  
"I stole some blue prints from my father." She produced them from between her breasts and offered them to him. He took them and unrolled the paper. Sure enough it was a blue print for a boat. "We could build it, the three of us." Danny looked over his shoulder at the blueprints. He didn't know why they were called that, given that they weren't blue. He turned to look back at Mattie.  
"I can't leave Melbourne. I need to stay and look after the doctor."  
"No, you don't. I don't know what debt you think you owe him but he treats you like shit. You should just leave. Go away. You can." Charlie Davis sighed and looked over at her and now Danny's hopeful face. She had a point: Lucien had been doing a bang up job of avoiding him these last few years. Which was hard considering Charlie ran their household, kept note of his patients and provided his meals.  
"This boat is for one person. Leave it with me, and I'll see if I can modify it for more." Mattie pulled him into a hug.  
"Thank you so much, Charlie Davis." She leaves after that, to go attend meetings with her father leaving him alone with Danny. He straightened his shirt and frowned. He wasn't sure he liked being hugged so much by someone he didn't know. It didn't take long for Danny to speak again.

"So you refuse to leave Melbourne for as long as I've known you but a pretty girl asks an-"  
"I'm not leaving Melbourne."  
"You just-"  
"I wanted her to leave." He replied, hastily. Danny pulled his line up out of the water and wrestled briefly with the fish. It landed in their container with a wet plop and flapped around for a few moments while they both contemplated. Charlie Davis contemplated that the fish was dying so they could live and that indeed it was a mighty unfairness on the fish's but all the better for them.

'You'll help her?"  
"I will."  
"Why?"  
"Because I know how it feels to be a commodity." They'd never talked much about Charlie Davis 's life. Mostly Danny's or events around the city. Charlie Davis told him stories, but only the good ones. Never anything past when he lost Matthew, because until he came here there were no good ones. Just stories of men with big hands and his desire for freedom. Corruption beating corruption. Death by liberty. He didn't feel compelled to discuss life with anyone. Something of his own. Danny doesn't have a reply to that for a long time. They catch more fish.

"I'm going to go with her."  
"I thought you would say that."  
"I hate it here."  
"You're more than entitled to."  
"But I want you to come with me."  
"I won't."  
"I know." They don't talk again until they are taking their fish to the market to be sold and keeping the best ones for their own families. Jean always made the best fish soup, Charlie Davis can't explain it but even when he was a teenager he loved going over to see her and try to score some soup. She mostly gave it, if in return he would do jobs for her that Jack and Christopher would never do.

He never liked Jean's other kids Jack was too loud and Christopher was always a bit odd. While of course it was sad that Christopher had died and Jack had left, he had never felt a great deal of sadness over it like he had when Mei Lin and Li passed away. He followed Danny home, and into his home.  
"Good evening Jean." He said, cheerfully. He always tried to smile for her, pretend things were okay even if they really were not.  
"Good evening Charlie Davis." She replied and then vanished into the kitchen and returned with a large pot. "Here, take this to Lucien will you?" It was rare that anyone called him Lucien, most just called his Doctor, after his chosen profession. His father before him and his grandfather before that had all been doctors from the stories Charlie Davis has heard over the years. Charlie Davis accepted the container into his arms. Though they were no longer seeing one another, it was clear that Jean still cared very deeply for Lucien and Charlie Davis knew he still cared about her. He nodded his goodbyes and made his way across the darkened Melbourne to home.

Lucien was awake when he came home, sitting at his table and drinking straight from the bottle. Charlie Davis scoffed at him, not that he noticed, and set about preparing something for him to eat.  
"Did you have a good day?" He asked, words only partially slurred.  
"It was fine. Jean made you soup."  
"Did she? That was….Nice of her." Charlie Davis can taste bitter in his mouth as he served Lucien a cup full. His stomach is doing flip flops, as if Lucien is about to ask him about the boat. "Thank you, Charlie Davis." He smiled. Charlie Davis just gave a nod, and went to his room, passing Li's, and not even stopping to think about the girl who used to occupy it until he was in the safety of his own room.

When he was there, he took a couple of breaths and thought of his favourite memory of her.

"Li! Stop!" Charlie Davis shouted, chasing her across the wall that separated the Atoll from the ocean.  
"Why?" She replied, her bare feet nimbly stepping out of the way of lose metal. Charlie Davis thunders through it, Danny hot on his heels.  
"Because Lucien told you to!" He called.  
"Father isn't the be all and end all, Charlie!" Li is the only person allowed to call him Charlie, not his actual name, Charlie Davis. Most people haven't got long names like him, but he doesn't mind it, he's proud of his name, in all actuality. Not even Danny is allowed to call him just Charlie. Just her. And he loves her. There's few people in Melbourne who Charlie Davis likes. They are Jean, Danny, Mei Lin, Lucien and Li. That's it; the whole list. They came to a stop suddenly and Charlie has to look around to see why.

Mei Lin is standing on the wall, hand on hips.  
"Li, why exactly are you running on the walls?" She looks ashamed suddenly. While yes, you can get away with things around Lucien, like running around the walls or going in the ocean barefoot; Mei Lin was not like that. When she set rules, you followed them.  
"Uh." She said, suddenly unsure. The walls were wide enough to stand on, but not enough to lie on. Small, that was to say. Suddenly, Mei Lin leant down and touched Li on the arm.  
"Tag!" She called, before taking off in the other direction. The three kids burst out laughing and chased after her as fast as they could. Down below, he could see Jack and Chris looking annoyed, because they were much above running around and playing with your mates little sister, but Danny didn't care. Never had. He understood that Charlie loved Li and he loved her too. The three of them had been best mates.

The afternoon went on for hours, the four of them running backwards and forwards across the walls of the Atoll, laughing and screaming in joy.

…

After Charlie Davis adjusted the plans to support a whole crew, construction began. Now, on a world made of water, keeping a boat hidden is no easy feat. Eventually they settled on building it under Charlie Davis and Danny's tower. Of course, it didn't take everything long to go to Hell.

Charlie Davis liked Jean. He did, he really did. But she worked during the day, like everyone else. She knew where he and Danny fished and he knew that she used to make visits when they were younger but they were not expecting her to show up now. She hadn't come to see them in the middle of the day since they were seventeen summers old. But today, of all days, she decided to pay them both a visit.

Hiding a boat, on a world made of water, is harder than building it, so as soon as she stepped onto the platform they knew they were fucked.

"Aunty Jean…" Danny said, trying to hide the hammer he was holding. "We were…uh." Charlie Davis had even less of an idea what to say then he did. Charlie Davis was a fisherman after all he had little training in other areas.  
"Building a boat." She finished for him. She looked at Charlie Davis. "Charlie Davis why are you building a boat? Is someone leaving?" She sounds hurt that Danny would leave without her. She has reason to be hurt, she's family. He was just a friend, friends came and left all the time so there was no real reason for him to be hurt Danny wanted to leave. (the thought of never seeing him again breaks his heart) The three of them all look at one another not sure how to proceed. Eventually, Charlie Davis speaks.  
"Please don't tell Mattie's father." He said. Jean continues looking.  
"No permission?"  
"Yeah." She frowned deeply, and then folded her arms. Jean is the sort of woman who knows a good deal. She sells things for a living, she runs the local store. She taught Danny everything he knows about deals and bargains. She was the ideal person for the job; to. Most travelers thought she was just a middle age woman, easily duped but warm and kind. And she certainly could be warm and kind but those who underestimated her learned quickly that she was sharp as a blade and didn't take kindly to anyone trying daylight robbery. Now was no exception  
"Fine. On one condition."  
"Anything." Danny said.  
"Take me with you."  
"Why?"  
"There's nothing left for me here without you Danny." She said, softly. They were all of the family that remined. Just him and her. Charlie Davis thought that must be nice, to have a family like that. Danny nods.  
"Okay." He agreed and they hugged in the sort of heartwarming fashion that churns Charlie Davis 's stomach and feels like a rock in his shoes. He turned away to tend to his fishing lines.

…

He returned home late in the evening dragging his kettle of fish and supplies he brought from traders and the store. He set them all in the kitchen, and went to find the doctor. He was in his 'office' (another room but this one had a table and some bandages), sober for once. He looked up at Charlie Davis and offered him a limp smile. Charlie Davis doesn't smile back.

"What do you remember about your life before Melbourne?" Charlie Davis raised his eyebrows and leaned on the gap that allowed access to the room.  
"Work."  
"Work?"  
"I scrubbed decks and cleaned cloth."  
"How did you get sick?" When the slavers brought Charlie Davis here, they were going to unload him, one way or another. Be that by squeezing the last few chins out of him in a sale or by throwing him into the ocean. A sick slave was worth next to nothing, can't work if sick. He'd always heard one thing: The life of a slave is nothing if not short. Mei Lin saw him, when she was looking at other wares from other traders and had been unable to leave him to die. She was good like that. Kind. Of course it was her kindness that got her killed but he was grateful all the same.  
"I was a nursemaid to the sick servants. There was no one else to look after them. When I got it to they sold me on."  
"To Mei Lin."  
"She brought me."  
"What do you remember about her?" Lucien asked, even though he knows all the answers already, he's asked every single one of these questions at various points in their fifteen summer acquaintance.  
"Why do you always ask me these questions? Do you think my answers will ever change?" Lucien sits back and shrugs.  
"I don't know."  
"Why ask me all these questions about the distant past? Why not the recent past? Why not a how were the fish today Charlie Davis? Did you see Jean and Danny? Anything interesting happen to you?" Lucien does not have an answer for him. Charlie Davis scoffed at him and went back to the kitchen to prepare them both something to eat. Lucien follows after him, standing by and watching Charlie Davis prepare the fish.  
"How was work today?"  
"Fine."  
"How are Danny and Jean?"  
"Also fine." Lucien sighed and watched as Charlie Davis sharpened one of his knives on a large pestle. Once he was satisfied with the blade he took it to the fish he'd brought home tonight. It seemed Lucien had eaten all the left over soup for lunch, which was fine.

He lit the fire with a flint acquired from a trader and proceeded to skewer the fish on long metal rods made for this purpose. While those cooked he turned his attention to the seaweed. He cut it into strips with a knife and put them on two plates. It wasn't often Lucien joined him for dinner.  
"How was work?"  
"Well."  
"Anyone on the brink of death?"  
"No, not that I'm aware." Charlie Davis sighed softly and turned the metal sticks in the small fire. They burned for the most, various small logs that were available from the city's small collection of trees. The fish could probably be eaten raw but he hated the taste so he never did. He supposed he should tell Danny to get used to raw fish, since that and lemons were likely all he was going to be eating.

Lucien finishes first. But he doesn't leave. He invited Charlie Davis into his office, which he declined, having no interest in the drink. Lucien vanished into his office, and Charlie Davis could hear the sound of bottles and liquid. He focuses on the never ending dripping, and allows it to soothe him to sleep.


	4. Running Back to You

"I'm scared."  
"I know." Matthew whispered, as he hid Charlie Davis and Rose in the cabin below deck. "You'll be alright." He assured Charlie Davis and smiled at him. It doesn't reach his eyes. He is just as afraid as he is, and somehow that frightens him more. Matthew was a pillar of strength, never scared of anything, so seeing him scared just made the whole situation that much more scary. Rose is less impressed, as she often was. Despite their initially rock relationship, the two of them had developed something of a friendship.  
"I hate slavers." She informed Charlie Davis after she determined the coast was clear. He looked at her and then nodded slightly. He hated them too. Perhaps more than he had before. When he was young, he hated them for being cruel to him, but now he hated them for what they'd taken from him. He wasn't prepared to give away their hiding spot just yet. While they hid, Charlie Davis found the time to begin drawing again. The paper wasn't paper so much as thin plastic. He liked to draw. Mostly he drew Rose or Matthew. Other times he drew what he remembered of his mother.

Rose, unlike Charlie Davis, was not able to quickly settle.  
"Do you ever think about Dryland?"  
"Why would I waste time on a myth?" Rose was obsessed with Dryland, but Charlie Davis doesn't know or even care why. It was a waste of everyone's time; especially hers. Rose sighed and picked up her own plastic. It was covered in symbols Rose referred to as words, seeing that she could read and Charlie could not. He only thing he could read was the symbol for chins, and other various forms of currency.

They were still in hiding when above deck they heard the loud crack of a shot being fired. For several long seconds, they did nothing. Not even breathe. How does one react to the person you love most getting shot? Charlie Davis doesn't know the appropriate reaction, but Rose has always told him he was odd so looking back, that's not a surprise. Rose seemed to know, or could at least hazard a guess, she was up like a shot and running towards the hold roof.  
"No!" He shouted as she pushed it open and lept out. It was all he could do to stay hidden.

He hid for seemingly hours. Up above him there was a great deal of yelling and tossing and screaming but he doesn't know what about. Every muscle in his body is taught with tension, every breath is a tiny gasp for help. Eventually, the hold door is thrown open and though he isn't sure he believes in angels, he prays for Matthew. It's not. He doesn't know them but they know him. Or maybe not. At least; they were able to identify him as a possible slave. And drew their guns.

…

He's forgetting details. He can no longer quite remember the exact shade of Rose's hair, or the creases on Matthew's face. He no longer remembers the feel of Matthews hands on his ribs as he was lifted to stand on the bottom of the sail and look out onto the open ocean. He doesn't remember Rose's poems she used to dedicate to the sea. He's forgetting them and he's terrified of that.

He doesn't like thinking that he's never going to see them again. He wandered through the empty halls of their home, thinking listlessly of what a life without Danny will look like. He thinks of empty mornings and quiet days. He thinks of Lucien and Jean never reconciling. He thinks of dying alone. He'd never considered that before now, dying on his own. Most people, or men, to be exact, took themselves a wife. Lucien had. Christopher had taken Jean. But Charlie Davis doesn't really want to do that. It's not that he doesn't like women, he does. Some are very beautiful indeed. He just…Likes being alone. He knows eventually Martian will make him an offer to make some girl pregnant and then raise the child, of course he will, he's been making them since Charlie Davis was fifteen. Eventually Charlie Davis suspects he will cave and add himself into the pool of unhappy people. He supposes that he'll have kids who he will teach to fish. But he doesn't want that. The only person who he loves and would want to marry is Danny. But as far as he is aware such a union could not produce children and therefore would be not allowed.

He stops when he approaches the room Li used to sleep in. No one has gone in here since she died. That was something he would never forget. She'd always been strong, and taken her adoptive brother in stride with ease. For the longest time he'd had two friends, his sister and Danny. He opened the door and stuck his head in. It looks how he remembered it, abiet dusty now. He shut the door behind him, using his lantern to light the way. The lantern was powered by dead leaves and sticks from the citys tiny little garden. Most people with influence or money had at least one in their home. The doctor had both, with his being a doctor.

The room still stinks of death and illness. He remembered coming in here when she was sick, Mei lin tending to her with a cloth, Lucien trying to convince her to drink a tea that smelled strong. It was the beginning of the end of people really noticing him. He spent a lot of time while Li was sick bringing them things and running the house. If they needed food, he got it. Money? He'd find a way. Hell, while Lucien was busy he even preformed a small amount of doctoring. Ironically, it was her caring that killed Mei Lin. When the illness began to spread, it was her that ushered people into the dank, cold underbelly of the city to care for. It was her who did most of the caring. It was inevitable that she was going to be infected, but still. He feels despair thinking of her grey face as even seemingly on her death bed, she continued to care for those around her, while Charlie Davis carried in piles of donated blankets and whatever food there was to go around.

With a gentle sigh, he smoothed his fingers over Li's blanket. It was a quilt of sorts, made from various stitched together pieces of cloth. She'd taught him how to sew sitting on his bed. She's liked to embroid things, you could tell what was hers because it was beautiful and his because it was sloppy and amateurish. She'd been dead for almost eleven summers. That was long ago but it still felt like an open wound. He should have been used to it, but he wasn't.

Mei Lin took sick when Li was on her way out. He remembered that because she cried into the doctors chest for hours and he promised her that they'd been okay. He knew most of the people who died. The word epidemic had been used to describe it but he still didn't know what it meant. Just that he was never going to see his sister again.

While people were sick it was decided he and Lucien were at risk of transferring it to others, so they were forced to stay down here all the time with minimal contact with anyone else. There was a hole cut into the door that separated the below ground from the above ground so they could pass things down. Danny used to sit at the door all day and try to talk to him. It never lasted long.

He was a nursemaid to the people here like he had been on the boat. Lucien barely spoke to him he was so busy. He only has one distinct memory of those nights that all blurred into one, and that was being so hot he thought he would melt and lying with his head in Lucien's lap. It was his favourite memory in all that grief.

…

"I'm scared." He whispered, as Lucien drew his hand though Charlie Davis 's damp hair. The room stinks of death, and around them people are moaning loudly. Some are crying. Others are silent and still. Charlie Davis feels sticky with sweat and his eyes hurt. Lucien is similarly sweaty and grey. His hair is mused and his breathing odd.

"I know." He said back, and shut his eyes, leaning back. "But it's okay. We'll be okay."  
"Mei Lin and Li weren't okay."  
"I know." He replied, "But we've made it further than them."  
"When they recycle me, will you make sure I get put into an orange tree?"  
"What makes you think you'll die before me?" He asked, not mentioned recycling. The process of disposing of the dead included submerging them in some kind of organic matter that could be used as fertilizer.  
"I just think that I'm weaker then you, is all. You can still sit up and I can't." Lucien leant down and kissed his sweaty forehead the way one would a child. Which is ridiculous, because he's not a child, he's seventeen summers old. He takes comfort in it all the same. He'd not had a father of his own as a child and Matthew was long gone by this point. Lucien was the closest he'd ever had to a stable father figure he could rely on and he did. He loved Lucien, adored him even. He liked to think that in return he was like Lucien's son but one can never tell.

"When you die, I will be long dead." Lucien scoffed, "But sure, if you die first, I will put you in an orange tree. When I die, will you make sure that I get thrown out to sea?"  
"Why?"  
"Because then I will feed the fish which will in turn feed you." Charlie Davis nodded, and then shut his eyes.  
"I'm so tired."  
"Rest now. I'll still be here when you wake up."

…

He's still sitting there when Lucien comes in. He's not mad. In fact, he walks over and sat next to him.  
"Danny wanted to know why you weren't at work today." He said, softly. Charlie Davis looked up. He hadn't been aware it had been that long.

"I was just thinking." Lucien looked around the room and then put an arm around his shoulders. "I really miss them."  
"I do as well." Lucien murmured. Charlie Davis sniffed and then wiped his nose on his wrist. He wasn't even wearing a shirt. Lucien was fully dressed and looked like he'd been working.

"How did you know I'd be here?"  
"It's where I'd have come." Charlie Davis nodded, and accepted that. "You've been good to me, don't think I haven't noticed. You didn't need to stick around, but I'm thankful you did."  
"Where would I have gone?" Charlie Davis asked, softly.  
"The open ocean, with Danny."  
"Maybe some day. But that would mean leaving you." Lucien looked sad for a split second before pulling Charlie Davis up against his chest. Though he initially struggled, after a few seconds he accepted it and took in a deep breath of the heat stained cloth Lucien wore. He smelled of sweat and salt. Just like everyone else. He feels like a mast, stable and strong, like Charlie Davis could anchor himself here and never leave.

…

In the days following that small revelation, things drifted in the direction of normal. Charlie Davis went to work each day to work on the boat with Danny. By now, the boat was mostly finished and he put Danny in charge of finding enough supplies. They needed two trees, medical supplies (which could be swiped from Dr Blake), cloth, weapons (which could not be swiped from Dr Blake because he slept with his gun under his pillow) food, clean water (Mattie was going to pilfer it from her father), and trees that grew fruit. Charlie Davis was left to work on the boat, because he was a highly suspicious individual apparently. He didn't know if he actually was or not but he'd heard rumors that they thought he was going to leave some day and go back out on the ocean where boys like him belonged.

Lucien was working and Charlie Davis had never been more certain of his choice to remain on Melbourne. It was almost like having the old Lucien back. He examined the second half of the boat and then stood back. It was a durable machine he was convinced would keep Danny safe. Because at the end of the day, that was all that mattered to him, keeping Danny safe. Even if he was never going to see him again. At least he had Lucien, he supposed and stepped off the boat back onto the platform they had made under the watch tower.

It was then that not only the ground but the tower shook with a huge bang. Scurrying up the ladder as quickly as he could, and then ran back into the commotion. He recognized the smell as soon as he smelt it, Smokers. They relied from what Charlie Davis could tell, on oil to run their big boat and sent smaller boats out to terrorize whoever and whatever in an attempt to find dryland. He'd had his share of run ins with them at various points in his life.

Upon his jumping the fence and landing on one of the pathways he looked around desperately for some answers. The smokers had weapons drawn and were shooting people left right and center. Those who had weapons were shooting back. Others were getting caught in the cross fire. Among the crowd, he can't see Danny, Jean or Mattie. But he can see someone he does know among the crowd of destruction. Walking through the smoke almost like a demon his mother told him about, is Jack. Jack Beazley. Before adopting Danny and her ill fated attempt to court Lucien, Jean had been just like Mattie. She'd had sex with a man she was told to and bore two sons, lest the first should not survive. Charlie Davis doesn't know what happened to Christopher but apparently Jack had taken up with the smokers. He was probably the one who brought them here.

It was no secret he and Jack had never gotten on. He hated the way Jack treated Danny and used to rub is nose in the ocean whatever chance he got when they were teenagers. He also wasn't happy with how he treated his mother. Charlie Davis had always treated his parental figures with the utmost respect, be them Matthew, Mei Lin or Lucien. Jack made his mother cry. Charlie Davis had not thought of him at all since he left. Frankly, he'd been happy to see the back of him.

Jack had a gun tucked into the waist band of his pants and was holding some kind of sword in his left hand the likes of which Charlie Davis has never seen before. Before he can duck away Jack spots him, and popped off a shot faster than Charlie Davis thought humanly possible. It missed him but barely and he's pretty sure it took a chunk of his left ear with it.  
"Charlie Davis!" He shouted, and ran at him. Charlie Davis, fortunately, has the bonus of a) not smoking and b) home turf advantage, grabbed a metal rod from a nearby stall. It burned his hands it was so hot from being in the sun.

As Jack swung at him, Charlie Davis dodged and struck out with his stick. Jack smacked their weapons together and he can feel it in his wrist. Fuck. Fuck fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Out of the corner he can see Danny running towards the ship and a terrible thought occurs to him: He has to get to Doctor Blake. He can't leave him here to die. Maybe rations would be sparse but he can't leave his own father here to die.

Jack strikes out at him and gets him in the arm forcing him backwards towards the water. Charlie Davis swung out and tried to hit Jack in the same manner but he dodged. They swung and their swords (well, Jack's sword and Charlie Davis 's stick) and there was a clang and anther clang and Charlie Davis pulled back, leaped backwards away from the swing of the sword. Ducking left, he managed to spin the battle so Jack was being forced in the direction of the water. A bullet from somewhere else flies part and clips his cheek forcing him to double over in shock.

Jack takes his opportunity and brings his weapon down hard on the back of Charlie Davis 's head forcing him to the ground. He landed with a thud that rattles all the remaining teeth in his jaw. He is able to look up just enough to see Jack standing above him, gun pointed at his head like some kind of vengeful God. Charlie Davis doesn't know, really, what he'd done to inspire such cruelty from another human being, but he can't even focus his eyes, let alone fight back.

Before he can struggle to his feet, Jack is blown backwards into the water. Looking up, he saw Mattie, with a gun. pointed right at him. She grabbed his hand and yanked him up to his feet.  
"Come on!" Charlie Davis wretched his hand from her grip  
"I have to get doctor Blake!"  
"No, you don't have time. We'll leave without you!"  
"Then do it." He said, and turned, sprinting as fast as his legs would take him in the direction of the door that lead to the underground. Which, realistically, was not that fast; his head was pounding and he could feel blood on the back of his neck.

He made his way down and then, in almost total darkness, he thundered down the halls. He flung open the door to the surgery, yelling.

"Doc!" He sounds surprised to hear from Charlie Davis during the day.  
"Charlie Davis?"  
"Doc! The smokers, they're here!"  
"What?"  
"We have to go."  
"Go where?"  
"I'll explain on the way, please, pack a bag with medical supplies." Above them, the ground shook furiously, and then there was a horrible noise and the drip drip turned into a trickle. Lucien right away began piling things into his bag, bandages, cloth, medicines, as much as he could. Charlie Davis grabbed their metal skewers as well as his crayons and notepad. He turned back and ushered Lucien to the surface.

On the top, the battle was raging on, though Melbourne had well and truly lost. Homes lay in ruin, bodies littered the ground; people he knew and Smokers alike. His stomach won't stay still in his body. It's churning like a whirlpool. His vision is off. His head aches like nothing he's ever felt before. He's bleeding. All he could think is I have to run. I have to get away from this place. They sprinted through gunfire to the fishing post. You could hear Danny and Mattie fighting from meters away, he thought, as they climbed up the wall as fast as they could.  
"We have to go, Danny!"  
"No, wait for him, he's coming I know he is."  
"He's on a suici-"  
"Look!" That was Jean, pointing up at them as they ran.  
"Where the fuck did this come from?" Lucien demanded.  
"I built it."  
"You what?!" He doesn't have time to respond however. He took their bags and tossed them off the edge of the platform onto the boat. He then shoved Lucien off the platform into the water below and followed after.

After the admittedly painful crash landing in the ocean, Danny and Jean pulled them up onto the ship. Charlie Davis sprinted to the mast and like a mad man, began pulling on rope and winding them around his arm. Suddenly, the sail picked up wind. Mattie ran to the wheel and began to steer the boat away from the crumbling walls of Melbourne and out onto the open sea.


	5. It's Alright

The only person to have sustained any major injuries in the battle was Charlie Davis. As soon as they were safely at sea, Charlie Davis is able to stumble away from the mast and stagger to the middle of the deck. He can't see anything well, and even thought he was sure that he left the mast for something, he doesn't know, or, remember what it was. He stood there for less than a minute before Lucien left Jean in order to lead Charlie Davis to the top cabin. He tries to speak, but all that comes out is garbled nonsense. Lucien, seeing that Charlie Davis was not any help sought out the others. Charlie Davis can hear him through the door.

"Did anyone see what happened to him?" He sounds desperate. Charlie Davis doesn't like the implications.  
"Can't you tell?" Danny, ow hearing Lucien concerned has become concerned himself.  
"I have an idea, but I need to know."  
"I saw him take a couple of blows to the back of the head." Mattie spoke up, tucking her gun back into her belt.  
"How many? How hard?" For someone who was mostly in the dark about all this, Lucien is remarkably good at adapt or die, Charlie Davis thinks, losing his focus on the conversation. He has no idea how much time passes between that, and the time that Lucien returns, briefly catching Charlie Davis's attention.  
"Charlie Davis?" He looks up. "Do you know how old you are?"  
"No." He said, after giving a couple of seconds, it doesn't come to him, his head aches, and his mouth tastes like blood.  
"Do you know who I am?"  
"Hmmmm. Father." He murmured, before putting his face into his arms, determining that if Father was here, then things were going to be okay. Afterall, Father had never let him down before. Father looked more and more concerned, he took Charlie Davis by the shoulder, propping his face up. Charlie Davis feels like he's walking in a dream. It's a good feeling, he just wishes that it wasn't almost offset by the pain in the back of his head. Everything is just so bright and fuzzy. He'd been concerned a minute ago but he can't fathom why now.  
"Charlie Davis?" He demanded, "I need you to stay awake for just a bit longer."  
"Hmmmmmmm." He replied. His head hurt, his eyes hurt. He couldn't understand anything he was saying. He just wanted to fall asleep. That was all.  
"CHARLIE DAVIS!" But he doesn't reply, or even understand, he just fell asleep, safe in the knowing that his father was nearby.

For the first night no one knows what to do so they all sit on the deck in a shell shocked silence. That was what they told him; when he woke up. Jean cries on and off, thinking of her son, the one Mattie shot. Jack. Mattie doesn't seem to know what to do more than anyone else so she starts adjusting her idea to get fresh water. Danny doesn't seem to know what to do. Lucien spent the night restless at Charlie Davis's bedside and trying to comfort Jean, or so Danny said. He spent all night sitting vigilant, holding Jean, or Charlie Davis's hand. He's a good doctor, if he's nothing else. He also mentions a conversation he thought Charlie might be interested in.  
"He called me Father, Jean."  
"So you keep saying." She murmured, wiping her face.  
"He never called me that before."  
"He loves you, stupid man."  
"I…I know. I just always presumed he thought he father was Matthew, or maybe his birth father."  
"Maybe, but they didn't raise him the way you did, as long as you did. Not a lot of people would willingly take on a sixteen summers boy, that they don't know. Least of all sixteen summers boys with as many…Issues as Charlie Davis used to have." She offered, before attempting to dry her damp eyes some more.

Charlie Davis woke up, eventually. His teeth are still broken, and his neck still hurts, but now he can at least see clearly. Lucien is waiting when he wakes up. He took Charlie's hand into his own again and smiled at him, relieved.  
"What happened?"  
"When Jack hit you, he gave you a very bad concussion." Lucien explained, as he usually did to patients. It's been a long time since Charlie was a patient last. "But you should be alright now."  
"That's relative." He bit, putting his hands over his eyes. Lucien sighed.  
"Why?"  
"Because we're all dead anyway."  
"What makes you say that? You seem pretty alive to me."  
"Smokers."  
"Smokers?"  
"They're after us, Lucien. Mattie killed a leader!"  
"What makes you think they'll catch us?"  
"They caught you, and you were on your little boat in the middle ocean not hurting nobody." He said, sitting up and drawing his knees. "And if they can catch you, the fastest and smartest man I know, the what chance do we have? I mean. We're just two rusty drifters, a cleaner, a girl who hardly knows hardship and the person form of ambition."  
"Three summers." Now it was Charlie Davis's turn to question.  
"Pardon?"  
"That's how long the Smokers had me. Three summers. The worst three summers of my life. I saw cruelty stripped back to its barest assets. I experienced the true depths of human depravity. And I'm still here."  
"That doesn't help." He mumbled.  
"But I'm still here." Lucien told him, moving to sit with him. "You were a slave for the better part of your life. I know for a fact that they tried to beat you into submission. But here you are. With me. Jean? She lost her children, her husband, and she still did a bang up job raising Danny. Mattie made the choice to leave her father, who hurt her. Danny lost his parents so young, but he's here as well. You and me? We lost Mei Lin and Li. But we're still here. All of us are still here. We're not just people. We're survivors. We've survived our whole lives. And from here, we're just going to keep on surviving. I haven't seen any evidence to prove me wrong yet." Charlie Davis sniffed, and grabbed at Lucien's hand.  
"Yeah. We're gonna keep on surviving." He agreed.

The following days, he would be lying if he said he was comfortable. Nights were cold as bone, and the five of them spent the nights together under the ship in the hold with the light of stars only visible through the slits in the metal door that separated the hold from the top of the ship. He usually spent them as close to Danny as he could get while also maintaining closeness with Lucien who wanted to be close to Jean. Mattie slept as far away from them as she could get while maintaining whatever closeness she could. It was hard. Charlie Davis found the cramped quarters to be a reminder of the time he and Lucien spent I quarantine, but he kept that to himself, no need to upset the doctor after all. This was the most lively Charlie Davis had seen him in years and he'd go straight to the bottom of the ocean before he let anything send him back to that dark place. Perhaps the best thing about this was that Lucien doesn't know that there in fact fermented fruit on board, but he'd hidden it. It was for Mattie and Danny to find and celebrate with one day, a last gift from him, but that too was for moot now. Until they found somewhere to drop him off, then maybe they would enjoy it. But for now, it was hidden. He didn't want Lucien anywhere near it.

Lucien had been mostly sitting with Jean and trying to offer what comfort he could, having lost his own daughter, but Charlie Davis can only imagine that it's not that helpful. Lucien's daughter was dead and recycled, Jean's son was a smoker bastard who enjoyed hurting others and hunting fruitlessly for Dryland. Charlie Davis knew precious little about the Smokers outside of what everyone else did. They smoked, they had a massive ship that gave off smoke, and they smoked tabacoo they were run by the notorious William Munro, who was obsessed with Dryland. They kidnaped and tortured people for their own amusement. They supported the slave trade. Everything that you wouldn't want to find in a person, to be frank.

The days were hot, hotter than anything they'd felt while on Melbourne. The sun did a great job of burning them and Charlie Davis who lived underwater and was pale as anything even noticed he was starting to tan slightly. Which could be a good or bad thing, good because he'd always wanted to stop reflecting sunlight and bad because it meant getting burnt which was never pleasant.

Mattie was the one who found out how to make clean water, mostly from her father. Using one of Jean's pots and two cups, she filled the pot with water and set it to boil. In the middle of the pot she put the empty cup. When the water turned to steam, it collected on the lid and then dripped into the cup clean. It was slow going as they had three cups and five pots, but it was the best they could do at this point in time. The water was mostly hot, but that was okay he didn't mind too much. Food wise, they had two fisherman on board. They ate fish. Jean made her broth. They dried seaweed and tended to their trees.

It was a hard knock life, but sacrifices they had to make.

…

"Did you intend to tell me about the ship?" At Charlie Davis's count, they've been at sea for eight days now. Lucien has mostly been ignoring him, which is fine. He's been busy using a rusty old compass that he traded three days worth of fish for to plot a course away from the Smokers who he is sure will be chasing them. He brought the compass as a gift for Danny when he finally set out as a drifter to make his own way, but it seemed that he didn't need to do that anymore and while he is grateful for having more time to spend in Danny's company, he knows with all his heart that it's only temporary.  
"No."  
"So you were just going to leave?"  
"No."  
"I don't understand."  
"I helped Danny build this boat for just him, Jean and Mattie."  
"Why?"  
"Because they wanted it." He said, swallowing the last of his drink. It was fresh water of course. He had to admit, Mattie's way of getting fresh water was slow, but genius.  
"And you would just let them leave?"  
"Yep." Lucien sat across from him and sighed.  
"May I look at your ear? "  
"It's fine." He scoffed.  
"It most certainly is not fine come here boy." He said, in that tone he used to use when Charlie Davis was sixteen and sneaking out after dark with Danny to see if they could count all the stars in the sky. Rough, but not totally unkind. Charlie Davis had liked it then and he likes it now. He moved so Lucien could get a look at it. "It doesn't look infected." He said, and then released him. "Keep it clean."  
"Of course." Charlie Davis said, before standing and moving to leave the hold and go above deck. Mattie is standing and looking out to see. Danny is playing checkers with Jean on a board comprised of coins as counters. When he emerged, they looked up, as if he would provide them with answers. He sighed. Lucien moved behind him and put a hand on his shoulder in that comforting way.

"I think our best bet is to keep travelling West. I've heard all the stories of more cities to the west."  
"Is that wise?" Mattie asked, "The Smokers are after us, and when they catch us they'll kill us." Charlie Davis raised his eyebrows.  
"Maybe. But they have to catch us first." He said, decidedly. He doesn't need to turn to know that Lucien is smiling widely. "And I'll put out a guess that they'll think we've gone north."  
"Why?" Jean asked, looking up. Her face is still red and patchy.  
"Because that's the closest city to Melbourne, which is a nation known as Victoria."  
"And they think we've gone there for help." Charlie Davis nodded, Danny sighed softly.  
"Why do we need another city?"  
"Because there's only enough supplies on here to last three people, not five." Danny looked to his toes briefly and then nodded.  
"Westward bound." He said, firmly.  
"Westward." Jean agreed.  
"Westward." Mattie nodded and he doesn't need Lucien to tell him out loud to know he agrees.  
"We'll keep journeying westward then." Charlie Davis decreed and stepped to the wheel with his rusty compass, to ensure that they were on the right course.


	6. Shoot the Breeze Blues

Charlie Davis woke up late into the night. This isn't unusual, usually when someone shifted it was inevitable he'd be kicked in the ribs and that was what happened. Danny's leg had stuck out and found purchase in his ribs. He looked around and did a quick headcount, Jean was here, holding Lucien close, Lucien's back is turned to him but it's certainly him. Danny is to his left, holding a bundle of cloth to his chest. But no Mattie. After a few minutes of deliberation, he figured he should look for her, after all: This was all her idea.

Wiggling out from the dog pile (he's not sure what a dog is, but it was how Jean described their sleeping arrangements) and made his way up to the deck as quietly as he could. It's a small boat, so Mattie isn't hard to find. She's sitting with her feet hanging off the edge, her toes in the water. He wandered over and sat next to her. She doesn't pay attention to him for a long time. They just watch the ripples of the ocean as they continued on westward.

"Do you have a family, Charlie Davis?" Charlie Davis bit his lip in thought. He had Lucien, and he had had Matthew.  
"Got Lucien."  
"A real family, a mother, father. Sisters. Brothers?"  
"If I do, I don't know them. I was born into slavery, my parents had me because they were forced to produce an offspring for more chins. If I have siblings, it's likely they come from the same cloth. I don't know them; they didn't want me. I believe that your family is made from people you love, not people who you don't know who are probably dead now anyway." Mattie sighed and looked out to sea. On his left cheek, his brand burns like the day he got it.  
"Can I confess something to you?"  
"I suppose."  
"My father didn't have a horrible boy lined up for me. In fact, the boy is very nice." She sighed, "The boy was you, Charlie Davis."  
"Me?"  
"He's obsessed with bringing new people into our family, and since you…You didn't come from here, you would be perfect for me."  
"I've told him no since I was fifteen."  
"He was going to make you an offer you couldn't refuse. A new home, a new office for Doctor Blake, Chins and power beyond anything you've ever had, and all you would have to do is make me pregnant." Long pause, "But I knew you'd never do something like that. I don't know much about you Charlie Davis but I know you don't like being told what to do, and more importantly, I didn't want to do that. I want to be my own person and make my own choices. I want to be a doctor. I want to heal people." Charlie nodded thoughtfully, and crossed his legs the opposite way to return feeling to his toes.

"You're right. I wouldn't." He said, gazing up at the stars. "I couldn't. Not if you weren't happy with it." She sighed deeply and rubbed her face before dragging her fingers over her scalp.  
"I think I understand you, a little better now."  
"How so?"  
"Because I'm the outsider now, looking in on the family." Charlie Davis patted her on arm.  
"Maybe. But you're one of us now, like it or not." She put her head on his shoulder and looked up to the stars, which twinkled brightly in the clear sky. Charlie Davis regrets his initial impressions of her. Certainly, she hadn't suffered the same way he had, but she'd suffered none the less. He understood her as well, the knowing that you don't own anything, not even your own body, it could get to be too much. Up above, the stars twinkled.

…

As is the case with most ships, Morale dropped fast. Charlie Davis remembers this well from his childhood, the bright excitement of being back out on the ocean after being on a city, and then after a week all he wanted to do was go back to a city. They lasted a little longer. It took about three weeks for them to lose interest. Danny was the only one who still seemed to be enjoying himself. Jean was upset about the unchanging skyline and mostly huddled in the hold with Lucien. Mattie sat on the back of the ship boiling water and watching the blue, blue sea.

Charlie Davis himself spent his time standing at the wheel watching the ocean go by, or attempting to fish off a moving vessel. They haven't seen a single sign of the Smokers, which is good, because they have four bullets and one gun to defend themselves with. Charlie Davis is really regretting not investing in a harpoon. But such is life, he thought, releasing the wheel and moving off. He wandered into the shade of the sail where he was storing his drawings inside a barrel.

At the moment, he was drawing himself and Danny as a new goodbye gift for when they reached a city and Danny left him for good this time. He always thought Danny was beautiful, ever since they were teenagers. Not in the same was at Mattie, because unlike her, he looked like Charlie Davis. Like someone who had worked. He was tanned, and clean shaven. His hair was bleached blonde and he had the eyes that reminded Charlie Davis of a warm summer. He didn't know anyone as beautiful as Danny, but more than that, Danny was kind. An expert barterer, but he gave fish to children with no family. He brought soup to the hungry. He was so beautifully kind that he even took it upon himself to embrace a volatile seventeen summers old boy who had nothing and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Took his time befriending him. Letting him be angry. Letting him be sad. Sharing his happiness.

Charlie Davis isn't stupid; he knows that his concept of love is flawed. He raised as a slave for the better part of his life. He knows that slaves are taught their whole lives to love their masters, the people who own them, who control them. It makes him wonder how much of his love for Lucien is real and how much of it is hardwired into his brain. Lucien was, technically, his master. It was money he earned that Mei Lin used to buy him. It was him who had raised him, taught him. Lucien himself had always told him, even when he was young and angry and striking out at anyone who dared to approach him, that humans don't own other humans, it's not right. He agreed. No one in town had ever called him a slave, because Lucien cut a slice into his brand, displaying proudly on his left cheek that he was no slave of Lucien's or anyone elses. But it doesn't help, he's still a slave. Always will be. He had wondered over the years, of tending to Lucien when he drunk himself silly, if he really loved him, or if he stuck around out of dedication, out of desire to please his master. He'll never know, but Lucien doesn't beat him, so he supposes that it's okay to love him, be it in the family way or the slave way.

Danny sat next to him in the shade and grins. Charlie Davis wonders why Danny takes the time to shave. He doesn't, and Lucien has had a beard for as long as he can remember. But he doesn't question it, not now.  
"Something up?"  
"Hm?"  
"You've been staring blankly at the ocean for like twenty minutes."  
"Oh."  
"So?"  
"I was just worrying about you."  
"Me? Why?" Danny asked, unaware of the horror that is the world they live in.  
"Because you're kind."  
"I have to be kind." Danny said, following Charlie Davis 's eyeline out to sea. No one has to do anything, least of all be kind. Kind killed people. It killed Mei Lin. It would kill Danny as well.  
"Why?"  
"Because you always said the world is evil, and what defeats evil more than kindness?" Charlie Davis can't help himself; he scoffs. "What?"  
"Kindness doesn't defeat evil sons of bitches Danny. The only thing that defeats evil sons of bitches, is being the eviler son of a bitch." Danny looks taken aback. Charlie Davis must admit, he's never really spoken at length about his time as a slave with Danny, he's never had a need.  
"What?"  
"When you're faced with evil; with someone trying to beat you, or take you or hurt you then you have to fight back. You have to be evil enough to do what they wont do to you." Danny put his head on Charlie Davis 's shoulder, and looked out to sea.  
"Nah." He replied, "I don't think you're evil." Charlie Davis smiled slightly.  
"Even if I've killed people?"  
"Never killed me."  
"You aren't evil."  
"Who are evil?"  
"People who buy slaves."  
"Is that why you went through so many masters?" Charlie Davis nodded. He'd never killed a master per say, that was an exaggeration, he'd beat them though, bit back.  
"And every time they tried to beat me into submission." Danny scoffed.  
"Can't imagine you being submissive to anyone." Danny quipped, and Charlie Davis has to smile.

Before they can continue the conversation, Mattie is screaming from the front of the boat.

"Ship! Ship!" Charlie Davis lept to his feet, and ran forward, Lucien and Jean stumbled out the hold, Jean's hair is ruffled and Lucien's lips are red. They appeared, Charlie Davis thought, cynically, to have been startled into a state of undress.  
The ship is coming towards them. Charlie Davis bit his lip as Lucien moved away from Jean to get a better look. Charlie Davis squinted against the sun and turned to look to him for advice. While Charlie Davis knew the most about the ocean, Lucien was typically considered the group leader. He'd always been a natural born leader, at least as long as Charlie Davis had known him. Not to mention that Charlie had only been a drifter for a few years, Lucien for as long as he'd been alive, up until his capture, escape and then drifted until he found Melbourne.

"When two drifters meet…" Lucien started,  
"Something must be exchanged." Charlie Davis finished. "What do we have?"  
"Fish soup?" Jean offered.  
"Clean water?" Offered Mattie. Charlie Davis nodded and sighed. He didn't like this at all. The boat didn't have a visible captain, and seemed to be going rather slowly. Certainly the chances of finding a boat out here would be slim, always had been.  
"Maybe they'll let us go?" Mattie asked. Charlie shook his head.  
"Nothing's free on Waterworld." He murmured.  
"So what then?" She asked.  
"We wait." He moved to the mast of the ship and took a look at their compass. The others waited at the front of the ship until the second one was in boarding range.  
"Hello?" Jean called, taking a polite approach.

There was no reply from the ship. Charlie Davis tried to get a better look, but before he could get close, Lucien lept from their ship to that one. He landed with a thud, and was quickly followed by Charlie Davis and Danny. The ship was empty, but there were no corpses (which was good, because Charlie Davis had no such desire to sample human flesh) or skeletons. But everything felt familiar. The lemon tree has bright yellow fruit growing on it, and Jean grabs it in a flash.  
"Look how big they are!" She exclaimed, "We have to take this."  
"I don't see anyone objecting." Lucien commented, opening the hold. Charlie Davis followed him down while Mattie went to check out the steering wheel and to put the anchor down. Danny remained look out on their ship.

The hold was a dark and terrible as theirs was. Two bedrolls lay on the floor, and Charlie Davis leant down to examine them. Reaching forward he picked up a single red hair from one of the rags. He'd only ever known one red head. Rose, oh Rose. He had loved her like a sister. She was good with words, better then he could ever be. She could make even the most boring of chores exciting. As a child, he and Matthew would listen to the stories she made up, and joined in the acting process, which she adored.

"Charlie Davis?" He looked up. Danny was standing at the hold entrance gripping something tightly. "You should really see this." He climbed the ladder and took the sheet of metal from him. His heart skipped a beat. It was a drawing, though amateurish, of Matthew, Rose and himself. Though it was old, the style was exactly the same as all the other portraits and drawing's he'd produced back on Melbourne.

"Fuck." He said, softly.  
"That's Matthew." Danny said, softly. "Did you…?"  
"Yeah. This…This must be Matthew's boat, it has to be."  
"Why does it have to be?"  
"Because, all this stuff, it's exactly stuff he would want. Those poems are the exact things Rose would write. This is something I drew. Danny…" It sets in that the boat is empty. "Oh, Danny…" He said, and staggered to his knees. Danny tried to grab him before he could hit the floor. Lucien abandoned his examination of a silver orb object with grates on either side as fast as he could to take hold of him from Danny, who only tightened his grip. He didn't know much about comforting the distraught, but he did know how to comfort Charlie Davis. And distraught Charlie Davis was.


	7. Mona (intermission)

Charlie Davis can't say for sure what happens next. Just that he cries. He doesn't cry often, not really. But this was something worth crying about. Sure, he'd never expected to see Matthew and Rose ever again, but this? He doesn't know how to respond to this. All at once a million thoughts blow through his head. Rose and Matthew had escaped the smokers and found a new boat, they'd lived, they'd lived, they'd lived. They'd been traveling back in the direction of Melbourne. Matthew or Rose had gone back to the old boat in order to get a picture he drew for them. They still loved him. He still loved them.

He's lost loved ones before. Of course he has. Mei Lin. Li. Lucien. His life is punctuated by tragedy. Whenever things seems to finally be going well for him. When he had something good in his life, just like always, like every single time in his fucking life, he was stripped of it. It never gets easier. He's not grey and a child in Matthew's lap anymore. He's not seventeen and lying in Lucien's lap while people died around them. He's not in his masters bed with a gun held in his tiny shaking hands trying to decide if he's going to shoot him or shoot himself. He's a grown man on his knees on a ship he doesn't know in the arms of his best friend. Danny is the only thing in his senses. He smells like summer and salt. It's like he's melting in the heat from the son and the heat from Danny, but he can't move. He can't even speak. All that he can do is scream. And sob. It rocks his body and tears free of his throat. Grief in waves and as deep as the ocean.

Danny held him for a long time, until the initial wave rolls to a stop, and he can stagger back to the ship. He can hardly see straight, and it takes the combined efforts of Danny Lucien and Mattie to get him into the hold where Jean was waiting for him. He doesn't know why Jean decided to take him next, probably because Lucien and Danny were needed above ground to control the boat. Maybe because Mattie doesn't know how to comfort. Or maybe it was Jean's battered and bruised maternal instinct. Whatever the reason, he's grateful for it.

Eventually Charlie Davis feels like he can breathe again. Jean is still holding him tight, the only light in the hold was from the whole in the roof that had the trap door that led them in. It's mid afternoon and the air tastes like sadness. He can't describe it. He sat up for a second to wipe his nose on his forearm. He thought for a couple of moments, that he would be okay. But it wasn't. He is overcome again and Jean pulls him back easily. She smells like a home, which is a strange thing to think, but she does. Sort of sweet; homely. Not like anyone else, who all smelt of sweat and salt. He thinks of what he has left. Lucien, who took him in when there was no one else. Danny, who took him on when there was no reason for him to. Mattie, who came to him with her plan to escape. Jean, who treated him like a child of her own when there was no one left caring about him. He owes them all so much but all he can do is cry for the people he hasn't seen for well over fifteen years. If Jean knows, or if she cares, Charlie Davis cannot say.

"They're gone, Jean."  
"I know."  
"I think that I must be cursed."  
"Cursed?"  
"Because every time I love someone, they leave. First Matthew and Rose, then Mei Lin and Li, and Lucien...And Danny was going to go as well. Is there something about me?"  
"No, it's not you. See angels have a plan for you, Charlie Davis. You're going to be happy again. I know it hurts, right now. And it'll hurt for a long time. But one day, it'll only hurt a little bit, and the edges will be less jagged, and it will ache more than it hurts. You'll be happy again. I promise." Charlie Davis doesn't believe her, but he doesn't pull away either. Why would he?

…

The week passed by slowly. Charlie Davis doesn't remember the last time he felt like this. At least Lucien has taken time out from copulating with Jean to sit with him. Someone usually sat with him. Danny avoided him, but Jean and Mattie did their time. Charlie Davis doesn't much like being everyone's burden but he doesn't know how to get over the death of someone you love. Lucien certainly never did. He wonders how Mattie was able to put the death of her father behind her so fast. He dedicates his time to the drawing of himself and Danny, working on getting the perfect depth of shadow on his forehead while Lucien talks about something inconsequential next to him.

Eventually, the man comes to a stop.  
"I think I owe you an apology."  
"For what?" He asks, adding a curve to Danny's chin.  
"After Mei Lin and Li…Died, I wasn't there for you. When I should have been."  
"You did your best." He said, not particularly wanting to discuss it.  
"No. I didn't. And I'm..I'm very grateful that you stayed with me. I don't know what I would have done without you." Charlie Davis looked up to him, and proceeded to blot his eyes on the back of his wrist. Lucien tucked an arm around his shoulders.  
" Where would I have gone?" He asked, softly. " There's nothing left for me out there. Danny'll be leaving soon, with Mattie. You'll be all I'll have."  
"You will always have a place with me." Lucien promised. "But you leave with Danny, I'm not here to keep you chained by the neck."  
"I just want to be with him." Charlie Davis confessed. "No one makes me feel the way he does. You know. Happy. I think. I don't…I don't feel miserable."  
"That's love for you." Lucien confirmed.  
" I don't want to be in love with him."  
"Why?"  
"I'll only hold him back. There's always going to be people looking for me. Him? He could be free. I think that must be nice. Freedom." Lucien isn't so stupid as to tell Charlie that he is free, because both of them know damn well that he'll never truly be free. Never escape what was done to him. Lucien is just the same. He'll live the rest of his life with what the smokers did to him. Both of them will. Which is probably why Angels drew them together.

As he continued to draw, behind him out on the deck, he heard several loud beats, followed by a noise he could only explain as glass beads in a pipe. Lucien shared his confusion and followed him up the stairs. The noise has changed to that of an instrument though Charlie Davis' unable to identify what exactly it is. He's never listened to much music, though on occasion there was some back on Melbourne at the yearly dance where they celebrated couples. When he'd been younger, Lucien used to have a real antique guitar and was always drumming on the counters, or his desk. He liked it, and he used to play for the town. But not anymore. He traded it away for more alcohol, despite Charlie Davis's protests. It had certainly never sounded…Odd like this. It sounded like it was being played though fabric.

As he and Lucien approach Mattie and her orb, as well as Danny and Mattie who have over to see. The orb is the source of the noise. The noise now has a voice, and he is calling for Mona. Whatever that is. Their songs were all rather simple, a few beats, some chanting. Nothing like this.

"It's powered by sunlight!" Mattie exclaimed, before putting her hand over several black squares on the top of the machine. The noise stopped. She put her hand back down. The percussive noises played again.  
"What is it?" Danny asked, peering sideways at the thing.  
"I think it's a music maker." Blake commented. Jean began tapping her hand on her hip in time to the music. Charlie Davis went in for a closer look. The first part of the, well he supposed it was a song began to play again.  
"Tell 'ya Mona what I wanna do!" Lucien started singing along with the machine.  
"Build a house next door to you!" Jean joined in. Charlie Davis took a seat on the floor while the others took their time enjoying the music. Dancing was not really something they did a lot of back on Melbourne. Or with Matthew. Matthew had sung the best songs to Rose he remembered, they put her to sleep. He's not in the mood for dancing right now, of course. He's in the mood for. Well. Crying maybe? No. Not that. Something. A nap? Hard with all the music. Danny and Mattie have joined in the singing now, cheerfully playing along with Lucien and Jean as they joined hands and began to move in time to the music.

Danny eventually came over and offered Charlie Davis his hands. Danny has been avoiding him. Perhaps he can't stand the tragedy that seems to seep from his very pores. Perhaps he just doesn't know what to do. This is an apology. This is Danny doing what he did best: Making him not miserable. Charlie Davis took them, somewhat begrudgingly. He started to laugh as Danny spun him around in circles with the music. For a while, just a little while, mind you, singing along with his friends to the noise out of a silver orb with fly screen eyes, Charlie Davis doesn't feel like the Charlie Davis he is, but rather, the Charlie Davis he wants to be. One with a family. One who never had abrand pressed into his cheek. One who never knew Matthew, and so he never lost him. One who fought Mei Lin in the market, and scratched when Li tried to be his friend. Who left when Lucien's drinking got bad, and told Jean exactly what he thought of her sons. Not the Charlie Davis who was still a slave, under it all. Who still gave into even the tiniest scraps of kindness thrown his way. Who cried openly and missed and longed.

Just him. Just Danny.

Alone together.

Free.


	8. Time Means Change

For the most, and to Charlie Davis's relief, they hadn't meet anyone on the ocean. From his understanding, the ocean was big and blue and unyielding. He'd met about eight people in the four years he'd been with Matthew and Rose. He'd only met one boat at this current time. It's easier, like this. Not having so many people, this much he is indeed prepared to tell. Certainly, it had been nice for a while, all those people in Melbourne, but they'd always treated him like a stranger. An outcast. He'd lived there for the better part of his adult life and he had one friend in the whole place. But that had been fine. At least; he'd thought it was fine. Looking back on it, now he's separate from it, different, it's something utterly different. Something lonely. Someplace where he doesn't know how to interact. He knows, truly, that he belongs on the open sea. He has to be. He doesn't know people, he doesn't know how to interact with them and not remain distant. He doesn't know how to not see the worst in people. The fact is, clear as day, he's not Danny.

A boat had appeared on the horizon in the early hours of the morning, first spotted by Mattie. Since then, it had been coming straight for them. It was a big thing, bigger than any boat Charlie Davis had ever seen in his life. Big enough to be an Atoll all of its own, he supposed. It looked tiny on the landscape, but had been readily getting bigger the entire day. It was fast as well, then. The tell tale sign was the two large tubes sticking up on the top deck of the ship, billowing out a grey, disgusting fog into the otherwise barren sky. It seemed like the smokers had found them, which really should not have been such of a shock, because they were bound to. There were thousands of smokers, and literally five of them.

He'd known as soon as they'd set off on this journey west that they were damned. They could only run so long. For the few brief days he'd had hope they'd be okay, he'd known that it was not so wise. The tides would turn on them. They'd turned on Charlie Davis his whole fucking life; why would now be any different?

"What do we do, turn around?" Charlie Davis shook his head.  
"Even if we do, they'll catch us before we can get far."  
"So we sit here and die?" Danny sounds distraught, and Charlie Davis wishes he could so something to comfort him.  
"We won't die, Danny. Likely they'll only kill her and sell the rest of us into slavery."  
"You're not helping." Mattie said and smacked him on the arm. Charlie Davis let out a soft sigh, unable to do much of anything, frustrated by his own helplessness in this situation. Lucien hasn't joined them on the deck. He's in the hold with Mattie's gun lamenting that he'd prefer death to Smokers and probably planning some kind of morbid murder suicide with Jean. Charlie Davis has no time for such folies. While he can live and protect Danny; he will. He's certain Lucien will come to his senses help them think up some kind of plan; he has to. He's Lucien. The Doctor. The leader. The one who always saves the day. Not Charlie Davis.  
"How did they find us?"  
"I don't know, but smokers are everywhere with minimal contact with their leader."  
"What do we know about him?" Danny asked, still trying to think of an outcome for them.  
"Name's Munro, he likes alcohol and smoking."  
"Anything about the smokers in general?"  
"Anarchists. They like the drink and smoking. They follow no law but the law their leader sets."  
"So, we're fucked."  
"Yeah." Charlie Davis has never felt so helpless. There's nothing they can do except put up a small fight, he thought, the bitterness almost overpowering.

The boat approach them for another three hours, or at least, that's Charlie Davis's count. Danny sat next to him on the deck. The wind is low today, so they can't even try to escape. Charlie Davis has his face in his hands. Danny took his wrists carefully, and looked him in the eye.  
"I love you, Danny." Charlie Davis said, softly. "And if this is the last time, I ever see you, I want you to know that I could never have asked for a better best mate."  
"I love you." Danny said, and pulled Charlie Davis up to his chest. Charlie Davis hugs him back, and after a moment Mattie joins in the hug. Her arms are warm, and the three of them hold onto one another for dear life for seemingly a lifetime. Mattie has become a sister to him. He doesn't want to lose her. He doesn't want to lose everyone.

Lucien comes up from below deck with Jean. He reminds Charlie Davis of the wildmen he and Matthew had encountered, the sort that were dangerous, unstable, driven mad by the unchanging ever lasting seemingly endless blue of ocean meeting sky. He doesn't offer him any comment, just checks the bullets in the gun.  
"Who are you going to shoot with that?" He asks, breaking away.  
"I don't know." He replies, "But I'll die before I go back to the Smokers."  
"We both know that isn't true." Charlie Davis can feel deep in his bones that he's right. If there was a way for Lucien to take his family back then he would. If taking more pain meant that they would live, he would. That was who he was. The man who exposed himself to certain death to tend to his children. The man who would sooner go hungry then have his son cry. The man who Charlie Davis would lay down his life for.  
"Nothing gets by you, does it?" He asks, looking to Jean, who is sharing a goodbye with Danny.  
"I learned from the best." Lucien gives a slight smile, and then turned to look at the boat. Charlie Davis closes his eyes.

There was no attempt at communication from the boat. Why would there be? They were Smokers, not people who actually cared about obeying the laws of Waterworld. When the first one lands, Charlie Davis realizes that it's going to be a short fight. They were armed, all of them, with actual weapons and bloodlust, verses five refugees from a ruined Atoll.

He was right. The fight didn't last long. They only had two weapons. Jean went down first, taking a bullet to the arm. She called out as she fell. She practically screamed. Lucien, going to her aid followed swiftly after. Charlie Davis has no reason as to why he did what he did. Just that he wanted to help the woman he loved, no thought as to the actual sustainability of the action. Danny took a knock to the head from a club and was out like a light. He collapsed onto the ground, blood slowly escaping his broken nose. Mattie, with a gun, lasted a little longer. She was still up when Charlie Davis went down, tasting blood and the sharp end of broken teeth as he took a punch to the jaw. He's going to have no teeth left when he wakes up, he thinks. He lost a two and cracked one in his fight with Jack, both close to the back on the left. Of course he'd lost a few of the others over the years when they went bad. Lucien had pulled them out for him, mostly at the back as well. But these were his front teeth, one of them is sitting on his tongue and he spits it out onto the slick deck. He doesn't know who's blood that is. The whole world was hazy, uneven, shifting backwards and forward. He felt that if he tried to get up, then he would vomit. With the eye not pushed against the deck, he can see Lucien trying to struggle his way towards Jean. He tries to reach for Danny, but his arms wont work, they lay heavy at his sides.

The world went dark slowly.

…

He woke up. For several moments, Charlie Davis doesn't move. There's no point in getting up just yet, the sun won't rise for another hour and it won't kill Lucien to wait for his breakfast. Reaching up with one hand to clear cloth away from his face, he realized there was no cloth and it all came crashing back. The boat, the escape, his thudding headache, his missing teeth, Lucien, Jean, Mattie, Danny. Danny. Danny!

He rolled onto his side and tried to sit up. He's partially successful in the matter, before lying back down. He can't move or he'll vomit. Not any further than this. His whole body is aching. It feels like he's been beaten.  
"Whoever you are, don't you move. Don't you move or I'll stomp your head in." Who the fuck? The voice was feminine, young and familiar, but not Mattie or Jean. Cellmates? Did the Smokers have that many prisoners that they had to do cellmates. He presumes it's not Danny, because he suspects that he would be resting on warm thighs rather than the cold, solid ground. That's what he'd hope anyway. His limbs are heavy when he tries to move them. He can wriggle nine out of ten fingers. Which is actually normal, the pinkie on his left hand wasn't really that useful and had no sensation in it thanks to being broken during his time in the slave trade. He tried to open his eyes, but one remained firmly shut. The other opened slowly. It was dark, wherever they were. And cold. Fuck it was cold. His vision is quite bad, but he can make out a few shapes. He tries to listen, the sound of his labored breathing, which he suspects is quite noisy. the ocean lapping at the outside of the boat, breathing of the other…no, of two others.  
"Has he woken up?"  
This voice Charlie Davis knows. He must be dead, or something. There is something wrong because he knows that voice. He knows every accent and every stumble. It's the voice he's thought about every day since they were separated.

Matthew, Matthew, Matthew.

His heart is sky high, less then twenty four hours ago, he'd thought they were dead and that it was all over but now? Matthew and Rose were alive and right in front of him. He can see it now, in Rose's face, in her eyes and hair and Matthew looks exactly the same. He wants to cry he's so happy. But then he realizes that there's nothing from either of them and it feels like his worst nightmare coming true. They've forgotten him.  
"How the fuck do you know my name?" he doesn't know what to say to that because to him it all happened yesterday. He remembers the feel of Matthew's hands and the curve of Rose's face and the smell of the ocean.  
"It's me. Charlie Davis." If Rose recognizes him she doesn't say. Matthew, however, emerges from the shadows fully. He's wearing an eyepatch on his left eye and has a massive burn scar on his right cheek, probably to cover up a brand. It's clear he doesn't believe him.  
"Charlie Davis is dead."  
"Well I'm clearly not because I'm right here." He said, finally. Matthew reached out and took hold of his chin none to gently, moving his face backwards and forwards. It hurt, but he doesn't dare to complain, lest he vanish back to wherever it was he went and he never comes back. Charlie Davis doesn't like the feel of someone touching the stubble that had stared growing in. Danny made him shave a few days ago, sick of watching him rot away from sadness. It did good to see his face properly again. It was amazing what a bit of hair could do to hide your identity. Hair never grew over his brand though, it was too badly damaged, but that was alright. He didn't mind it too much. He still doesn't seem convinced.  
"Who else would know that a boy named Charlie Davis , who you brought off a slaver ship at age eight, lived with you on your ship until he was twelve summers?" Charlie Davis asked, "Have you told a great deal of people about me?"  
"No."  
"Then why would I lie to you?" Matthew looked at him again. He stared deeply into Charlie Davis's eyes as if assessing his very soul. He doesn't like that feeling awful much. His soul is practically rotten by now, he's hurt so many people and been hurt so many times that by now, surely there is nothing left of it. Then took Charlie Davis into his arms. It hurt at first, to be moved so suddenly when he was healing, but the feeling of being close to Matthew, up against his chest, even after all this time, was enough to make the better of it. Matthew is crying into his hair, stroking his back with his fingers. Charlie Davis doesn't know how to comfort him, but it seems that he doesn't have to.

"You're all grown up." Matthew said, softly. "I thought I'd lost you for sure." He breathed. "When I made it back to the ship, it was empty, and I thought that you'd died for sure." Charlie Davis doesn't even have it left in him to cry, and his head hurts so badly, but Matthew is here. Matthew, he is sure, will keep him safe. Even though he didn't intend to, because Matthew is still speaking, he falls asleep, or rather, unconscious. Again.


	9. I Hear You Knocking

When he wakes up with his head on something soft. It feels nice, actually. Around him, he can smell something human, slightly of sweat and grim. On his head, he can feel a hand. It's so nice. Charlie Davis has not let many people touch his hair over the last few years. But he loves it. The fingers are gentle, combing the matted, bloody curls away from his face and eyes. He opened them slowly, and looks up to see Matthew above him, not really paying attention.

He wants to shut them again now he's confirmed that Matthew is still here. He just wants to pretend, even if just for now, that things are going to be alright. Matthew is speaking, but Charlie Davis doesn't know who with. It's not Rose, it's too deep. It's not Lucien. It's not him. He forces his eyes back open to see Danny, leaning on the wall beat up and bleeding. Jean and Mattie are nowhere to be found but Danny is alive. Danny seems to have noticed he's awake and offers Charlie Davis the slightest smile. He looks slightly concussed and very out of it.

"Danny." He breathes.  
"You know him?" Matthew asks.  
"He's my friend." Charlie Davis says, but pressed his face back into Matthew's leg. It was just so comfortable, and familiar. How does someone even smell the same, after twenty summers? "My best friend." Danny doesn't seem to be able to move any more then Charlie Davis can, perhaps less. "Did they hurt you?" He asks, but he doesn't have the energy left in his body to move. It was almost like now he'd found Matthew again, he was giving up. He's seen Matthew again, made his peace, it was okay to die now, things would be alright.  
"They've hurt all of us." Danny says, moving one hand to wipe some blood off of his face. "Except you."  
"What do they do?"  
"It hurts." Is all Danny is willing to divulge. "I think-" Before he can continue, agonized screams echo down the hall. Charlie Davis, spooked, pressed his face into Matthew's stomach. It is as hollow and bony as his, and he knows it is naive to think that Matthew could protect him.  
"Lucien." He breathes. Danny nods, but it's a small, sad thing. He can't help but to begin to cry. Danny pushes himself forward onto his knees, attempting to crawl over, but Matthew scoots backwards, taking Charlie Davis with him to the corner.  
"Stay away." He warns.  
"Matthew 's okay." Charlie Davis tries to say, attempting to use his otherwise useless mind, which is still swirling and hazy. He doesn't know if Lucien is still actually screaming or if he's hallucinating. He feels disoriented. Matthew's hand in his hair is so nice. "He's a friend." Charlie Davis said, but he can't bring himself to get up or move. Matthew is just so comfortable, and he's so tired, and he hurts so much. Danny completes his crawl over to them, and drops to the ground. He is curled around himself again; he face is smeared with blood and muck. Charlie Davis is slowly able to use his hand to reach out and put it on the side of Danny's face. Matthew is unwilling to offer up a thigh to someone he hardly knows and Charlie Davis doesn't blame him.

Rose is sitting nearby, picking at her shirt.  
"Why can't I move?" Charlie Davis asked, softly. Matthew and Danny look at one another. Rose is tapping the ground. Danny reaches for him with a bloody hand. Charlie Davis can't even keep his eyes open. The screaming starts again, and he begings to cry into Matthew's shirt.

…  
"How long is he going to be like this?"  
"I can't say."  
"What do we do?"  
"We wait."

…

The next time he opens his eyes, he feels even more disoriented. He's aware that he has been slipping in and out of lucidity for some time, but he doesn't know why, and he doesn't know how long he's been like this. Above him, a hand is still gently combing clumps of blood and who knows what out of his hair. He opens his eyes, finally.

Lucien is lying on the floor nearby. He's been beaten bloody, practically unrecognizable. Matthew isn't doing anything, which Charlie Davis thinks is out of the ordinary because Matthew, at least, as long as he'd known him, always cared for other people. Always helped where he could. But Lucien is just lying there, breathing shuddering breaths. Blood is pooling now, bigger, scarier. Using every once he has in his body he pushes himself up. Matthew tries to stop him, but somehow he misses and Charlie Davis lands on his bloody knees. Matthew allows him to crawl across the floor to his father, where he collapses next to him, pushing him gently with one hand.  
"Lucien." He pleads, softly, "Please I'll help you sit." He doesn't know, if those are actual words a human could understand above the roaring blood in his ears. Lucien doesn't budge. Someone is screaming down the hall, Charlie Davis's mind identifies it as Mattie without his permission. His whole body just feels heavy. Like a sponge full of water. Just crawling the five or so steps to Lucien was so hard. He tries again to wake Lucien up, but he doesn't budge, and he's so cold to the touch. "Matthew!" He pleads, "Matthew you have to help him." He begs, knowing that himself alone he could do little but Matthew might be able to do something, anything to help him.

But he doesn't. Charlie Davis reaches for Lucien and lay there for seemingly hours before passing back into the darkness.

…

He is forced awake by someone. Maybe Matthew? He's now sitting, or more accurately leaning up against their chest. He can hear a heartbeat under the shirt he is lying on. His eyes are not cooperating with his mind. He felt something cool at his lips, and can't stop a soft vocalization in complaint. Drinking is the worst thing he can think of right now. It sounds like agony to try and suffer through a mouthful of water when his throat wont work.  
"I know." The body under him rumbles. "I know. But you have to drink something." How long had it been? Why did they have water? Who was standing at the doorway watching them?

"Do I have to pull you out by your hair?"  
"Let me help him drink first."  
"I think-"  
"Look, you can do what you want to me, but if he dies, I doubt your boss will be very impressed with you."

The figure regards them, and then steps back so Matthew, if it is Matthew can help him drink. If he'd had more wits about him, he may have had half a mind to be upset that he has to be helped with such a basic task. Matthew's hands are comforting, gently pressing his jaw down so the tin can slide between his teeth, and the tiniest bit of water trickles into his mouth. He's suddnenly aware that the only thing he can taste is blood. The water is a blessed relief and it feels so good in his mouth, like nothing on Waterworld has ever felt good. Thankfully, possibly Matthew has the good sense not to try and get him to eat and allows him to lay until he feels the darkness crawling up around him yet again. He is so tired. Where is Lucien? Where is Danny?

…

He feels marginally better when he next opens his eyes. Not good or even okay but better. He's shaking all over, like he was cold but he's not all that cold. He's still being held close to someone, who is breathing deep and feels warm and comfortable. He is looking at the floor, for Danny and Lucien only to find it bare and blood free. It occurs to him that he had no frame of reference for either of those thoughts, and really, the only logical conclusion was that they hadn't happened. He's no stranger to hallucinations; dehydration and starvation have funny side effects, but how on earth was he suffering that here?

"How are you feeling?" Matthew, up above him. So that at least had been real. Rose is crouched in front of him, carefully using salty water to ease blood away from his face, his eyes are sore already.  
"Bad." His voice is odd sounding, but can still be understood at least. Matthew sighs softly.  
"I thought as much."  
"What happened?" He asked, very softly as Rose sat back to admire her work.  
"When they brought you in, you were dosed with some kind of hallucinogen. Both Rose and I were exposed to the same thing. It's meant to keep you pliant for transport."  
"Is that why I couldn't move?" Rose nodded, and sat back on her arse. She grew up to be very pretty, Charlie Davis thought. She had a small face, with a peaked nose and soft red hair. Unlike Mattie who restained hers into a braid, or Jean, who simply kept it cropped, hers fell to her shoulders, straight as anything. He sighed softly, and he realized he was still shaking all over. He doesn't know if he's scared or just cold. Because it's icy cold down here. Where ever they were.

Charlie Davis knows he should move. He really does. But all his limbs weigh so much, and his mind is fuzzy, and all he wants is Danny. There's nothing he wants more. His eyes begin to fall shut again, they seemingly weigh more then anything else. Matthew smiles at him, and feeling better, he allows them to sink shut.

…

He's awake and everything is pain. He's no longer incapacitated. He is able to struggle to his knees, then his feet. He stumbles forward towards the bars, his legs are wobbly, like seaweed, but can carry him forward until he drops down onto the bars to look out. It's dark, empty, and plenty damp. He can hear only faint moans somewhere far away. He doesn't know whose moans, but an educated guess says Lucien. He looks around for someone..Who had been here with him? Helped him drink?

Only now does he realize he's alone. Again. Matthew, he realizes, belatedly, wasn't real. Rose wasn't real. It was just his mind playing tricks on him, attempting to rationalize what it was he was going through. This hits him like a ton of bricks. He's waited for twenty years to see Matthew again. To feel him. Smell him. Make peace with him. Thank him. What does one even do now? How does someone even respond to this kind of loss. Even though he wasn't real, it feels like losing li and Mei Lin all over again. It's agonizing. He feels like crying all over again. He makes his way into a corner and fell to his arse on the ground. It's cold, but it's dark and it's safe. At least, he thinks it is. He runs his tongue over his ruined teeth. They hurt. He hurts. Only hurt. Nothing left for himself.

He doesn't know what to think, now. If there is anything to be thought. He ends here. He has nothing, he'll never have anything. They're going to sell him off again, back into slavery, back into what he'd fought so hard, so fucking hard, to escape from. Lucien was gone, probably tortured past the point of sanity while all his son, his only son, could do, was drift in and out of lucidity, while imagining his absent…Whoever Matthew was in relation to him. Danny is probably being branded, or healing from it right now. Mattie? Hanged, or shot. Jean was likely serving in a bed somewhere. What use was he, when he can't even protect the people he loves? What does he have to give, when he can't protect the people he swore he loved.

He doesn't even know he has any tears left. How could he?

There is nothing left. Not even sadness. Just an abyss of acceptance. Perhaps this was his destiny. To be a slave. To serve. All he'd wanted, his whole fucking life, was to just _be_ and now? Now he doesn't even have that. He shuts his eye and huddled against his corner, awaiting his fate.

Before long, however, just like always, just when Charlie Davis thought he'd hit rock bottom. When he'd gone past the point of no return. When his muscles were weak, and his head heavy. Just when he was convinced he had nothing left to give, something happened to pull him back into the fold.

The cell door was opened, and two forms landed unceremoniously on the ground. He doesn't look up. They aren't real. Nothing is real.  
"Charlie Davis?" Was that Matthew? How desperate was he truly for friendly touch if his mind wont let it go, even now? Down in front of him, he can feel another body, arms warm around him, pulling him close. He smells like how Matthew used to smell. But it's a trick, a cruel trick.

"Go away." His voice sounds pathetic, even in his own ears.  
"Why would I do that?" The person, Matthew, asks, and tugs Charlie Davis's pliant body back into his arms.  
"Because you're not real."  
"I am real." Matthew says, softly. "I know it's very hard for you to believe that, and I don't blame you, but I am very, very real. Whatever they gave you should have worn off by now." Charlie Davis swallows a wave of sickness and put his head on Matthew's shoulder. It feels real. He feels real.  
"Why can't I just die already?"  
"Pardon?"  
"Why do I have to keep living this sad excuse for a life?"  
"What?" Rose, this time.  
"The only future I have is serving someone. The only things I've done are serve Lucien and sit with Danny. There's nothing left to fight for. Just let me go."  
"I don't think so." Matthew says, with so much fury Charlie Davis can feel it. "I just found you again, after thinking I'd lost you for twenty years. I want a life to show you that I love you. That we love you. I want to know this Lucien you speak so fondly of. I want to meet Danny. I want you be with you again. The three of us. A family. I think that's worth fighting for."  
"Lucien used to say that we were survivors." He said, voice soft; sad.  
"We are." Matthew told him, voice serious, soft. "And if we're good for anything, it's that we're going to keep on surviving."


	10. Slightest Reprise

Time creaks past, slowly. They pass the time by talking.

"What happened?" He asked, softly.  
"After we were boarded, we were taken into custody. To a place just like this." He said. Charlie Davis is still lying on Matthew's chest, though he can no longer tell who it is comforting. Matthew likes to hold him, and he likes to be held. Matthew has a hand in his hair, gently detangling his curls. "From there, we fought our way out." He said, "Idiots didn't bother to check us over for guns." He said. "We got the boat back, and took what we could. It was a good boat, we took it to a little city and spent a while there. "Pause. "You were already gone when we got there. Thought maybe you'd starved or drowned. We went back out on the ocean, we're drifters after all." Charlie Davis sighed softly. Rose is standing by the bars, watching for a gap in their defenses, an escape.  
"Slavers found me. Saw the brand. Took me." Matthew sighs softly. "I was passed around a few times, before I arrived at the Atoll of Melbourne. I was sick, and a woman felt sorry for me. Mei Lin. She took me home with her, and her husband, Lucien, took me on as his charge. She's dead now."  
"I'm sorry."  
"I've been looking after Lucien ever since." Matthew gently combed his fingers through Charlie Davis's hair. It was good, to talk about what had happened, comfortable.

"Hello?" A voice called down the hallway. Charlie Davis knows that voice better then he knows his own voice. He broke free of Matthew's arms and leapt to his feet.  
"Danny!" He yelled, going up to the bars. Danny emerged from the shadows. He's not too badly beat, but his face is slightly bloodied and his nose is clearly broken.  
"Charlie Davis!" Danny replied. He produced a keyring off his belt and flipped through five keys to get to the one he wanted. He unlocked the cell, and released them. Charlie Davis flung himself into Danny's arms.  
"I thought I was never going to see you again!" He said, putting his hands on the side of Danny's face. Danny put his hands-on Charlie Davis's shoulders, and bumped their foreheads together, carefully. Mattie is trailing after him, and Jean after her. Jean has a cloth wrapped tightly around her injured shoulder, and Mattie trailing after her.

Walking the ship was difficult. Charlie Davis had no idea what to do or where to get weapons. And they needed weapons. If Charlie Davis could take anything away from what he'd learned about the Smokers over the years, was that they were going to be armed to a t, and they would shoot to kill. The bat is heaving back and forwards as the ocean assed by under their feet. The whole place stinks of smoke and death. Soot lines the walls and the ground. Matthew had a slightly better idea then him, having been conscious when he and Rose were dragged in. He leads them left, then right then left again. While Danny forged on ahead, Charlie Davis fell behind to walk with Rose.

"I missed you." He said, with a small smile.  
"I missed you too." She replied and looked up to him. "Was he good to you, this Doctor Blake?"  
"He did his best."  
"His best?"  
"Mei Lin and Li both died within a week of each other."  
"Oh."  
"It was rough. What about you and Matthew?"  
"What about me and Matthew?"  
"How did you end up here?"  
"We got caught. Our boat was too small to help us. They branded him, and then when he killed them, they gave us to the Smokers." He nodded, and sighed.  
"I'm sorry I wasn't there."  
"It's hardly your fault. I was the one who ran up to the deck."  
"I guess, but he'd have died otherwise. You did the right thing." Rose nodded and grabbed a hold of his hand. "I was lucky, you know? Most people don't even get one dad. I got two." She smiled again as they kept on walking. It felt like hours but he suspected that was likely because of his head injury than anything else. He's still waiting for the headache to dissipate, it makes it kind of hard to think right.

When they reached the armory, they realized it would be guarded, and they had no weapons. Matthew, followed by Danny, the two most physically capable, followed by Rose and Mattie, agreed to take them on by surprise, while Charlie Davis, who was still mostly useless and Jean, who had been shot, should wait outside and run if something went wrong. Charlie Davis sees no obvious problems with the plan so he okays it and he waits outside with Jean.

She's a pretty woman, Jean. Charlie Davis could see why Lucien found her attractive. She had a kind face, he'd always though. She looked like a mother, and he'd really needed that after Mei Lin died. She was a good role model and he hadn't had a lot of those. She had kind hands and a nice smile and eyes that could seemingly see right through you. Even if she was sad, she'd always found a way to power on with her life. He found himself admiring that, often. His life had practically come to a standstill after Mei Lin and Li died. Lucien had thrown himself into the bottle, leaving his son to clean up the messes and Jean? She'd helped him a lot in trying to navigate his new life.

Gunfire breaks him from his thoughts. Initially, he panics. He thinks something has gone wrong and Jean apparently thinks so as well because she grabs his hand between hers. Charlie Davis isn't sure what to make of it but he doesn't pull away from her. Matthew and Danny emerge, armed, followed by Rose and Mattie, equally so. They pass weapons to those who need them and Charlie Davis is quietly thankful that at least they were armed now. He has a way to protect his family, the people he loves. A way to seek his revenge on the people who has hurt Lucien. But the gunfire would have brought company, he thinks, looking up as footsteps thundered down the hallway in front of them.

They hid in the shadows when the Smokers came Charlie Davis feels like his breathing is going to give them away when he hides. They've operated mostly in silence to prevent this from happening. He tries to keep his face pressed against the wall. He seeks out Danny's hand with his own. Danny's grip is warm and tight. His head swims at the sudden movement to hide. He's sure that he's losing his mind. But they smokers run on, past them into the room. Matthew, suddenly, reaches out and slams the door closed behind them, and then locked it from the outside, forcing them to stay in there.

They all back away. Charlie Davis stumbles, but Danny ensures that he doesn't fall.  
"What do we do?" He asked, softly. It occurs to Charlie Davis that Danny probably doesn't even know if he should trust Matthew, and if his stomach would stop rolling so frantically for at least a couple of seconds then he's sure he could come up with a reply.  
"We need to get Lucien." Jean says, sharply. Mattie nods. Charlie Davis struggles to straighten up.

They tried to escape the labyrinth like lower decks. The walls were rusty metal, corroded with years of neglect and ocean water seeping in. Charlie Davis finds it almost homely, like living under Melbourne had been. He missed Melbourne, actually. He missed living alone with Lucien in the oppressive humidity, darkness and minimally ventilated rooms. He missed the familiarity of it all, actually. He's not the adventurous sort, never has been. He'd liked to wake up in the morning, and know damn well that Lucien would still be there in the evening. He missed sitting off the tower with Danny, catching fish and talking about the events of town. True, he did also like living at sea, especially with Danny. He liked the open air, and he liked the sun on their backs. He liked the smell of salt and the time spent with Lucien who was sober and pleasant. He decided, then and there, if they get out of this alive, then he will stick with Danny. He doesn't care if it's on water or if it's on an Atoll, as long as Danny is there, then he will be happy, he thinks turning to look at the man again. Danny has a hand on his back and he tried to clear his vision again.

As they draw closer to the cells, the shouting has started up again and Charlie Davis feels cold with fear. His already damp face feels disgusting anew as a fresh sweat breaks out. Their footsteps seem ridiculously loud as they walk. Charlie Davis has never been quite so anxious before. His gun feels unreasonably heavy in his hands, and his head is heavy on his neck.

They approach a cell close to the middle of the building where the yelling was coming from. The gate is open. Matthew cocks his gun. Charlie Davis has to look away as he crashes in. He's frozen on the spot, he can't look, won't look. Two, three, four shots echo through the chamber. Charlie Davis holds in a deep sob. He can hear Lucien talking, crying. Even Jean has moved past him now to go into the room. He doesn't know that he even wants to look and see the death Matthew had caused, or the state Lucien was in.

He doesn't turn until he hears Lucien call his name. He turns around. He's lying in Jean's lap, and he is a mess. His face is smeared with blood and dirt, Charlie Davis isn't a doctor but he knows a crushed eyesocket when he sees one. Despite all this and the pain he must be in, Lucien is reaching out a hand for him. Charlie Davis takes a couple of steps forward. He can feel tears gliding down his face. He doesn't have it in him to even wipe them away.

He falls to his knees with a loud thud, taking Lucien's hand into his own firmly, and kissing the knuckles over and over, pressing them to his face.  
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He whispers, as Jean gently shifts him into Charlie Davis's lap. She goes to the others still standing, discussing plans, obviously realizing that Charlie Davis was nowhere near functioning enough to be of any help with that. He uses his thumb to clear wet blood away from Lucien's face.  
"Did they hurt you?" he asks softly. Charlie Davis shakes his head no, finding that rather odd, Lucien was beat within an inch of his life, and he was concerned about Charlie Davis?

"Why did they do this to you?" He asked, quietly. He cannot think of anything Lucien could have done to inspire this? He shook his head.  
"Why does anyone do anything cruel?"  
"Because they have power." Charlie Davis spat. Lucien sighed and allowed Charlie Davis to carefully smooth out his hair the way Matthew had for him.

Mattie approached them.  
"We're going to try and clear a path to the boat." She told him, "You two wait here, we'll come back for you." He nodded, and swallowed.

"Good luck." He said, holding out his hand to her. She took it, and shook it firmly. "If I never see you again, then for whatever it's worth, you changed my life. In a good way."  
"Even with all this?"  
"Even with all this. You're some woman, Mattie." Mattie gives him a slightly sideways looks.  
"If we'd been married, I think you would have made for a good husband." Charlie Davis scoffed, but can't help but smile at her. She leant in and kissed his cheek. "You've been a pretty good captain, as well." And with that, she turned away. Everyone else is preparing to leave. Matthew gives him a tiny smile as he does. Charlie Davis doesn't like thinking that this could be the last time he sees them, but he knows better than to get his hopes up.

They leave and it's just him and Lucien, again.  
"Help me stand, will you?" Lucien asks, after some times has passed. Charlie Davis hasn't spoken, because what do you say to a situation like this? Is there anything to be said.  
"How do you think you're gonna stand?" Charlie Davis asks, but he complies anyway, as he always does.  
"We'll have to move, if we're gonna get off this ship. We should start now, in order to get there in time. They would have cleared at least some of the path by now." Charlie Davis, quietly helps Lucien to his feet, and together, they struggle to the bars.

Walking down the hall, in a great coat, despite the heat and the sweat is an unrumpled forty something with greying hair and cool brown eyes that seem almost black in this light. William Munro, in the flesh. Lucien tries to stand between them. He seems unconcerned.

"Relax, doctor. I mean you no harm. I only want to speak with Charles here." Charlie Davis swallows deeply. His name is not Charles. It's Charlie Davis.  
"Charles?"  
"That is your real name, Charlie Davis." He swallows deeply. "I just want to speak with you. As a show of good faith, I'll even let him go." He says, pointing at Lucien.  
"And if he doesn't?"  
"Then you die and I take him by force." He smiles.  
"Go." Charlie Davis insists. "I'll…I'll take one for the team."  
"We'll come back for you." Lucien insists, seeing he has no choice in the matter. Charlie Davis has made his choice here.  
"Don't, please." Charlie Davis says, and gives Lucien a one arms hug. "Just go. Get away from here." He pressed his gun into Lucien's hands. "Please." Lucien gives him one last nod, and begins to limp away. Munro doesn't speak again until he's gone.  
"Follow." He insists.

Charlie Davis does.


	11. On My Own

Munro walks quickly through the rusted hull of the ship, taking Charlie Davis down, down down to the bottom the ship . He's never been on a boat this big, it's practically as big as Melbourne was as a whole. The lights are strung along the walls. They're in the shape of lanterns that Charlie Davis is unfamiliar with. They don't seem to be candles, but he's not in the mood to inquire about what they are. Munro hasn't spoken to him since they started walking. Charlie Davis wants to know who Charles was, why Munro spoke of him like that and why he was not attacked but Lucien was beat within an inch of his life. He doesn't like being so curious about a cruel man, but he has to know.

Eventually, they reach a small metal door that leaves an orange smear on his hand as they push through it. They end up in a tiny passage. It's dark and smells like mold. Lucien warned him once about mold, it could kill you pretty damn fast if you breathe too much in. Similarly, it's dark in the passage and it takes his eyes a long time to adjust. The corridor is just wide enough for his admittedly quite broad shoulders to fit through. It's short enough that his head almost touches the ceiling.

He emerges from the tunnel into the most opulent room he's ever seen. Frankly, Charlie Davis has lived his life on Melbourne, or on the ocean. Melbourne, even compared to other floating cities, is poor. He grew up on a small boat he shared with two others, in and out of slavery. He supposes that in reality, he has no idea what opulence actually is. But this, he is sure, is not just him.

The floor is covered in lush carpets, only a bit damp and still soft under his feet. There's a wooden desk (Charlie Davis has never seen wooden furniture before) and a chair with a cushion. Wood, when they had it on Melbourne, was used to make paper so they could write things down, or they burned it. They never had enough to spare to make into things. All the furniture in the surgery had been made from metal and was uncomfortable. Hell, there's even a fireplace in the wall. That something that he'd only ever heard about in Matthew's stories of the place where he came from as a child. The desk has a candlestick with a shade and bulb in it, and more paper than he's ever seen. It's a room fit for a king. William stands in the center of it, presiding over his kingdom.

"I've waited a long time to meet you, Charles." Charlie Davis frowned slightly. He didn't even know who Munro was until his late twenties, and he did not return the feeling. He takes a seat behind his desk and indicated to the one in front for Charlie Davis to sit in. He does. "I suppose you have a few questions."

"Yeah."

"Then I guess I should start with your father."

"What about Lucien?"

"No. Not Lucien. Your real father. he was one of my top men. Richard Davis." Charlie Davis frowned deeper. All his life, he'd thought that his father was a slave, like him. He struggled to deal with the fact that he had been abandoned by choice. "He had your mother, and then when you were born, you were meant to inherit all this."

"What?" He asked, frowning deeply. He wasn't a smoker, he knew this deep in his heart. He didn't know what he thought of that statement, exactly, but Richard Davis didn't sound like who he had always liked to think his father was. It wasn't fair. Most people have one father. Charlie Davis has somehow managed to go through three.

"You were meant to be a smoker. But when your father was murdered, your mother was stolen, and you were taken from me." Munro actually appears to be sad speaking about this. Like he really had lost a son. Charlie Davis can't help but fiddle with the seam of his chair, trying to take all this information in. This sudden...Surprise, really.

"From you?"

"Your father and I intended to raise you. Together." Like lovers, but that stays unsaid.

"I don't understand." Charlie Davis said, finally.

"You don't need to." Munro said, "I have so much to teach you, Charles. So much to show you. This world will be yours for the taking."

"I don't want to be a smoker." Charlie Davis said, softly. Even to his own ears, he sounds like a lost child. Because that was tempting. He wanted to control his life, at least a little. Maybe he could bring Danny with him?

"Don't be ridiculous. I am your father, Charles." He blanches at the thought. "You should do as I say. I know it's going to be an adjustment for you, since you're used to running wild, but trust me, it's better this way." Charlie Davis doesn't think that he runs wild, not truly. He just wants his family to be safe, that's hardly a crime.

"No, you're not my father. Lucien is my father."

"No. He's not." Charlie Davis bit his lip sharply. Certainly, he wasn't Lucien's by birth, but he was in every other sense of the word, wasn't he? Certainly, he didn't address Lucien as 'father' but that didn't mean he wasn't, did it? Lucien had done his best to raise him, hadn't he? "He abandoned you, Charles. His wife died and his daughter died and he forgot all about you." Munro taunted, and Charlie Davis knows that he's right. Lucien had sort of forgotten about him for a long time. Everyone did. He was a shadow, who cleaned and cooked and woke people up, begging silently for scraps of attention.

"And Jean?" Munro continues,"She had three children of her own to care for, do you think that she really wants to take on Lucien's pet project as well? Mei Lin and Li died. Matthew left you, taking Rose with him. And Danny? He was going to go without you, on that boat, with Mattie. You love him, and all he wants to do is hurt you. No one wants you, Charles. No one pays attention to you. No one even remembers you exist. You're only useful to them, when you're being used."

Munro has a point. An excellent point. Lucien spent fifteen summers avoiding him. Spent fifteen summers locked away drinking and mourning. Charlie Davis worked. Before he fished he doctored, or he did odd jobs. Charlie Davis kept them afloat. Worked himself half to death to provide for them. Worked through his own grief until it felt like little more than an ache in his chest.

"But not me. I've been looking for you all your life, Charles. I want you. I've always wanted you." Munro said, standing and moving around to stand in front of him. "I've always wanted a son like you." He said, and held a hand out, to him. Upturned.

"What happens to them? If I take this?" He asked, thinking of his friends. Of Mattie, who only wanted his help to escape her father. Of Rose, who liked to write poems about the ocean. Of Jean, who wanted a better life for her children.

"They'll be killed."

"How did you know, about my life?" He asked, in a soft, dangerous tone afraid of the answer.

"It's amazing what people will tell you, when you hook them up to a generator. Take my hand, Charles. I'll be the master you need."

Charlie Davis stood, slowly, making eye contact with him the whole way up. He took the hand.

"May I ask you something, William?"

"Of course."

"Do you know who defeats evil sons of bitches like you, William?" Munro gives him a confused look. Above him, a pipe full of oil has a leak. Charlie Davis produced a smaller second pistol from the back of his pants. Munro's face drains of colour as he realizes what Charlie Davis intends to do with it. "Being an eviler son of a bitch." He raises his gun to the pipe. His mind offers him the image of Danny laughing as they danced on the boat. He doesn't need any more convincing.


	12. Nowhere in Particular

By the time they found him, Danny was convinced there would be nothing left. The ship had been blown to Hell, and it was only by luck that they had all survived. They'd been close enough to the top of the boat to only be thrown into the water. They'd avoided being pulled into the burning curling, boiling wreckage. They knew Charlie had done it, all of them did. It was the only logical conclusion to come to. Lucien had stumbled close enough to the boat that they could pull him from the wreckage. After they all made it back onto the boat, it was Lucien who insisted they go back for him. Matthew backed him up. Jean had wanted to leave as soon as she could, or at least make Lucien rest. But it was no good. The man was nothing if determined.

They spent hours at a time in the ocean, pushing past corpses and pulling apart metal sheets. The boat had at least survived, though he knew that the lot of them wouldn't last long on it. There weren't enough supplies. The ocean is warm and slick with oil. They do their best to avoid it but on occasion, they have to wade through it to get to the larger pieces of ruin. Lucien stays on the boat, wrapped in a blanket and teeteringly nervous. But he never gives up hope. Danny wishes that he could be like that, so sure.

It was Rose who uncovered him, under a wooden desk, clinging to life. Charlie Davis valued his life more than anything else. It didn't shock him that Charlie Davis would be alive if the opportunity had presented itself. Charlie Davis was a survivor before he was anything else.

They knew it was Charlie Davis who blew up the boat. No smoker would risk their alcohol, and none of them would even have had the opportunity. Matthew carried him back to the boat, somber and silent. Mattie pulled him up onto the deck. Lucien fell to his knees upon seeing what had been done to him. Charlie Davis was covered in burns and cuts. His breathing was scarcely more than rattles, and yet he still opened his eyes. Lucien was shouting at Mattie. He was yelling for his supplies, that there was still time, there was still time. Charlie Davis reached up one arm to touch Danny's face, smiling at him, as if he wasn't dying. It wasn't a happy smile like one would expect, but a peaceful one. Soft around the edges.

"You look so beautiful, Danny." Charlie Davis said, his eyes straining to focus. Danny isn't sure he agrees with that, he's casting a shadow over Charlie Davis's face, blocking the sun overhead. "Like an angel…" He whispered, with one of those smiles that Danny had never really seen. The sort that Charlie Davis never had. Danny leaned down so his forehead was pressed against Charlie Davis. He hoped, with all his heart, that Charlie Davis knew the honest truth.

He would never have left without him. He couldn't have. He loved Charlie Davis with all his heart, with every bone, and with every muscle. He would have lived on Melbourne his whole life, if it meant he got to spend time with Charlie Davis, for just one more minute. Charlie Davis was, and always had been, someone who he could trust. Rely on. Someone who had defended him, sat with him, cried with him and offered his heart with no strings attached.

He leaned forwards so their lips brushed one another. They both have chapped lips and the inside of his mouth is drier than chalk, but he doesn't care. Danny has kissed before. Girls, payed women, whoever took his fancy. Kissing Charlie was different to all of that. He feels wet tears on his face as he tried to pull Charlie inside his skin, away from the pain and heartache of the world.

He is still clutching Charlie Davis close to him. Lucien has finally given up on trying to apply medical help. To Danny, it doesn't seem right to hold him now. He moves back and allows Lucien to pull him close, the way only a father can. Charlie Davis doesn't even seem aware enough to notice. Lucien is speaking to him but it's so quiet Danny can't hear it. Everyone is silent. No one has anything to say, there is nothing to say. It seems so unfair, that Charlie Davis should live through so much, fight so hard, and yet die first.

"I love you, Dad." Charlie Davis said, to Lucien, said with as much conviction as a dying man can.

"I love you too," Lucien said, pulling him close. It wasn't something beautiful, or profound. It didn't take a long time. He seemed to give up, now he'd spoken with his father one last time. His eye seemed to move over the crowd, before falling shut. It didn't take long after that for everything else to stop as well.

All his life, Danny never thought there was a pain worse than losing both your parents. He knew that pain intimately. He had since he was a small child, and his parents were both killed. He was lucky, taken in by Jean. The second worst pain he'd ever felt was the fear of losing Charlie Davis to another plague, years later. But even if you put those two together; that was nothing compared to the second-hand agony he felt, from the screams of a man who had lost both of his children.

…

It turns out Charlie Davis was right. There were cities to the west. One city, the one they settled at, was Ballarat. With the Smokers gone and the city in need of new genes, it was easy to convince them to let them stay. Mattie and Lucien found work as doctors, since the one they did have had recently expired. Jean took up as a cleaner again. Matthew retired from drifting, sick of the danger and found work on fishing boats. Rose left as quickly as she had appeared on a boat of women difters. Which left Danny.

He stood by the port, the gates are closed, but they'll open soon so he can pass through them out onto the open ocean. Lucien stood next to him. He doesn't smile much anymore, if at all. It's lucky he has Jean, Danny thought. Probably the only thing stopping him going back on the drink. But it was likely what Charlie would have wanted for him. He loved Lucien a lot.

"Got a plan?" He asked as Danny ran his fingers through his hair

"Nope."

"Know where you're going?"

"Nowhere in particular." He replied. Lucien nodded and looked out to sea.

"Do you believe in Dryland?"

"Do you?"

"I believe you'll find Charlie Davis there." Danny smiled slightly.

"You'll look after Auntie Jean?"

"Of course." The ocean is calling to him, loudly, proudly.

"I wasn't going to leave without him. "

"I know. I think he knew as well." Pause. "Not that it matters now."

It took a few hours, but eventually, he was on the boat and set to go. Standing by the gate, Jean, Lucien, Mattie and Matthew were all watching him go. He waved one final goodbye, knowing as well as anything that he was never coming back. Drifters rarely went back to whence they came. Danny was no different, he supposed. He put the sail up and wandered to the cabin.

He adjusted his Orange tree (named Charlie Davis, of course) so it was sitting in the sunlight. Following that, he adjusted the little picture Charlie Davis had drawn for him so it was straight. He hadn't taken much in the way of personal possessions. There was not a lot to take, and anyway, these were the only things that he needed. With a smile, he sat back to admire his work, before stepping up to the helm.

"So, Charlie Davis, where do you think we should go?" He asked, rhetorically. He knew where he was going to go. And that was westward. Forever.

A/N: If there's something we can all take away from this fic, it's that i should not be allowed to write chapter works lol. This has been in the words since January and I'm glad that it's done! I hope you all enjoyed this fic :-) I am considering an alt happy ending, but im not sure. Might ruin the ending. For now, it's marked complete and im going to retire to writing only short fics and drabbles from now on. I'd say feel free to share your favouite part, but I presume for most of you is was the 'startled' line haha.


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